Every Dog Has Its Day: An Omnibus of Wolfpack Short Stories
by ChrissiHR
Summary: This is an omnibus of some of my wolfpack works of short duration. Pre-reader: meliz875, Pairing: varies. Includes several of my award-winning one-shots, sneak peeks, flashfics, drabbles, and anything else that may strike my fancy. More flashfics available on Tricky Raven. I'll be using this for flashfic-length sneak peeks for the most part from now on.
1. YMO, SethBella

_What follows is the original one-shot-no edits, no revision. This one-shot essentially stands alone without the revisions for the multi-chapter fic. The solution to the mystery wolf riddle, however, remains the same and can be found in chapter 2 of the multi-chapter fic._

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><p><strong>Yours, Mine, Ours<strong> **by ChrissiHR  
>Rated: <strong> MA/NC17**  
>Warnings: <strong> For mature audiences only. Strong Sexual Content and Language**.  
>Pre-reader: <strong> **SuperGirl-Gem  
>Summary:<strong> AU, 3 years post-New Moon, no cliff-jump, no suicide trip to Italy to save Sparky Sparklenuts, in a perfect world where the Cullens sparkle magnificently somewhere other than Washington. Bella's drawn a lot closer to some of the pack, made lifelong friends, but these boys don't share well. Wolves are territorial even on their best of days.

**Disclaimer:** SM owns. I don't own shit.

Pairing: Bella/Unnamed Wolf

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I heard the distinctive rumble that heralded her arrival on the rez. Everyone knew that sound. The other wolves could hear it for miles. There was no way to conceal her presence this time. Everyone knew she was coming home from school for the weekend anyway. She loved autumn in La Push too much not to come home for at least one long weekend in October.

We were taking a hell of a chance meeting in secret on the rez as it was, but with that racket her truck made, there was no way her _other_ wolf wouldn't come looking for her when she didn't turn up at his house within minutes of passing over the border this afternoon.

I couldn't be sure if she wanted to get caught or just didn't care anymore, but I knew for certain this was her way of upping the ante. I could hear her voice now, laughing, "Your move, asshole."

That's what you get for baiting one of your best friends; the girl you want to fuck.

I phased back and licked my lips in anticipation, not bothering to pull my shorts on while I waited for her to crest the hill. No point putting them on only to have to take them off again. I might not have those seconds to spare today. We'd have to make the most of our very little time this afternoon before the bonfire on the beach below tonight.

I stroked myself impatiently, keeping an eye out for the hoodie- and jean-clad figure to round the trailhead above the cliffs as usual for her illicit fix. She surprised me this time, though.

It was an unusually warm fall day and she took advantage; tiny denim cutoffs, barely-there, navy bikini, long silver necklace dangling invitingly between the soft, swaying swells of her breasts. She wore one of my old dark green hoodies, but it dangled down her arms. Caught in the crooks of her elbows, she wore it like a shawl, her shoulders bare, sleeves only pulled up far enough to keep it from falling off. Eighteen year old Bella would never have dreamed of wearing the rest of that in public. The bikini, the fucking cutoffs, her bikini bottoms peeking out at the juncture of her thighs.

Never had I been so glad that a girl was twenty-one and more than of-age.

She had her hiking boots on, too, and a pair of thick, padded boot socks drawn up her slender calves almost to her knees. She knew herself well enough not to risk the short hike from the truck in anything but the appropriate footwear.

"Fuck. Is it wrong that I want to strip you down and bend you over so I can fuck you in nothing but those ugly ass boots?"

Her rich laugh peeled delicately over the hilltop like birdsong as she approached, "Aww . . . you _did_ miss me, or did you just miss playing groin-tag in the woods?"

I snorted, then got my first good look at her since she left for school again in August. Had it only been seven weeks?

Her hair was down, the wind blowing soft mahogany tendrils across her milky, rounded shoulders. The contrast between the light and dark made my mouth water. It reminded me of the contrast between our skin tones as I watched my burnished, bronze cock disappear into her petal pink pussy the last time I fucked her.

"You sure you still want to do this, babe?" I asked, giving her one last chance to back out before we got caught for sure this time. "You know he heard your truck. He'll come looking for you any second now."

She nodded, wrapping her arms around my waist, "This is the last time, though. You'll have to be quick. I don't want to hurt him and you aren't making me any promises either."

"You know I'll never imprint. Even if I do, I'll fight it. I don't want that shit any more than anybody else. You saw what that shit did to Lee. Some bland milksop Quileute princess chosen by Taha Aki who needs to be cuddled and treasured and doted on? Fuck, no. I won't be collared. As for your other concerns, babe, I'm known for being thorough, not quick. Do my best," I promised.

"That'll have to do," she nipped the underside of my chin and moaned into my throat, "Mmm . . . mine."

My wolf snarled and gnashed his teeth. Fuck _him_, her _other_ wolf. She was _ours_; me and my wolf.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and shoved the other hand down the front of the nearly nonexistent shorts.

Fuck, _so wet_.

I closed my eyes, pausing in surcease, the wolf and I reveling in the sweet, honeyed scent of her arousal as it billowed around us, stroking her slick folds with a gentle squeeze to either side of her clit.

Her breath hitched and she began to unravel.

I reached for the snap at the front of her shorts. She grabbed my hand and attacked my mouth with teeth and tongue, rasping between breaths, "No time."

I picked her up instead, legs around my waist, and pushed aside the stiff denim and slick lycra between her thighs.

I stroked her damp folds with a blunt fingertip, but she stopped me again, "Rough; I want the wolf this time. Give me your wolf."

He came roaring to the surface. I fought the phase, bones cracking, sinews snapping, muscles rippling beneath the thinnest layer of skin; he could kill her if I lost control.

Gazing upon her luscious curves for the first time in my human form, but through the eyes and mind of the wolf, I buried myself inside her without thought, without preparation, and stopped. It almost killed us to stop.

We smelled the blood, though; she'd torn a little, an abrasion like a rug burn. Too rough, too much for her tiny human body.

"Don't," she begged. "It's barely a scrape. You know that. Your nose is just too sensitive. I told you. I wanted it. Hard. Fuck me. Fuck me the way he never will. He treats me like a robin's egg that fell out of the nest, like I'll crack any second. Always so careful; too precious, too pure to give me all of himself. He holds back, keeps that piece of himself from me. It's the piece I want most, the wolf."

I panted, locking down on my muscles, forcing back the phase. I pressed her into the sheer rock face at the rear of the cliff-top clearing. No soft fuck in the tall grass and wildflowers for us.

She bit my lip and I saw myself in the shine of her eyes, the wolf's burning, molten gold stare reflected back at me.

"You're sure?" I checked one last time.

She growled, tightening her arms around me, latching onto my neck, lips and teeth scraping, sucking, lapping at me, pleading, "Fuck, yes! Give me your wolf!"

So I did. I slammed her back hard into the rock, lifting one of her legs, opening her out a little and driving home. I hammered into her, forcing breathless grunts between her lips that I captured in a burning kiss.

I pulled her top to the side and leaned back to look at her undulating torso. Her head was thrown back, naked, full breasts thrust forward - more so even with her top pushed aside, pressing her luscious tits together. The rosy peaks of her nipples were irresistible to the wolf, and to me, her heaving breasts bouncing with every thrust, every gasp, every groan.

I hunched down a little to lap at her candy pink nipples, but the height difference was too much.

"Down," she demanded, wiggling to clarify her request.

The wolf couldn't submit, though; couldn't let her have top even though _I_ wouldn't mind. It was up to me to figure it out.

I kneeled instead, bringing her down to my lap, laying her out in my arms so I could lean forward and lap at the tips of her creamy tits. She moaned and circled her hips, grinding her clit against my pubic bone.

She rested her hands on my shoulders and picked up the pace, grinding me hard, her hands tightening around my neck as her fervor grew. The familiar sounds of her artless little grunts and anxious whimpers echoed around us in the clearing, merely the first harbinger of one of her mind-blowing multiples.

The pressure built, her walls flexing and seizing me in her tight grip as she wailed her way through the first orgasm, soaking my cock and thighs with her tribute, the delicious perfume of her arousal enveloping us like a sweet cloud.

My nostrils flared, the wolf brought to the fore again by the addicting scent we both craved.

I bore down, widening my stance, preparing for the force of her clenching finish.

She raked her nails down my back and I felt the blood well to the surface before it healed almost instantaneously.

She writhed in my arms, getting swept up in the next wave, and whispered provocatively, "Fuck me, make me yours," as the wave of orgasm crashed over her again, but she'd forgotten about the wolf.

You don't provoke the wolf.

He roared, _we_ roared through our release, pumping hard up into her battered pelvis; two hard, final thrusts, jaws clamping down on the tender flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

We laid claim to our mate, worrying the soft, pale skin between our elongated teeth, coating her inside and out with the slick, oily scent of our saliva, musk, and cum - lots of cum. It overflowed her tight channel, seeping out around the place where we were still joined. She'd never be _his_ again. She was ours.

We collapsed, laying side-by-side afterward in a tired heap of sweaty limbs in the clearing, gasping for breath.

The wolf receded, truly content for the first time since I phased. I lapped at the wound, the wolf saliva speeding the healing process slightly.

"You marked me." It wasn't a question. She probed the area around the bite gingerly with her fingertips. It was raw and bruised.

I rose up on my elbow, looking into her eyes worriedly, and tried to explain, "You asked for the wolf. You got him. You begged him to make you his. Now you are."

She stroked my cheek, "I know. I wasn't asking. You'd never have taken me when you still saw me as _his_. Your wolf had to mark me. _He_ can't fight this. I'm marked now. I'm yours."

"And if I _do_ imprint?"

"You won't. I figured it out - a while ago. Imprinting is a weakness, not a reward. It's the wolf's way of forcing the warrior to retire because the man isn't strong enough to share his mind and body with the wolf. Man and wolf must live in concert. If one is imbalanced, both are. The wolf recognizes it even if the man doesn't. The imprint is the wolf's final test. If the man can overcome the imprint, he's strong enough for the wolf to remain. If the man caves to the imprint, softens, puts her needs above the pack or the tribe, the wolf goes and the imprint is the man's consolation. She makes it easier for the man to part with the wolf. It's . . . a kindness on the part of the spirits. The wolf can move on to a more worthy vessel and the man doesn't go through withdrawal longing for the wolf. The imprint fills the void left by the wolf when he goes."

"So the imprinted wolves are weak?"

"Not weak, but not meant to be great warriors either. They're already talking about retiring so they can age with their imprints. What they don't know, I _do_ know. Billy let me read the old journals. A marked mate ages _with_ her wolf. He'll imprint eventually on the mate he chose to mark when it's time for him to retire, too, when the tribe no longer needs wolves. Then, they'll age together."

"Then . . . you're really ours?" I asked in disbelief.

She stretched, wrapping her arms around my neck, her body around mine, she kissed my chest, "I'm yours."

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><p><em>Which wolf am I?<em>

_Let the speculation begin. This one-shot has been extended to a multi-chap fic, "Yours, Mine, Ours" and can be found amongst my other fics here on FFn._

_I will not be posting the answer to the mystery wolf riddle here in this chapter in order to preserve the mystery! You MUST go read chapter 2 of the multi-chapter fic to find the answer to the mystery wolf riddle!_


	2. Holidaze, PaulBella

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**Happy Holidays, lovely FFn readers!**

_This one-shot is a story some of you may remember, _**_Holidaze_**_, my winning entry in Tricky Raven's 2013 Christmas Contest for Authors and Artists (my first writing contest ever!), so I hope you enjoy this blast from Christmas-past. _❅ **ChrissiHR **❅

_(There's a more typical author's note at the end of this one-shot for my regular readers with other fic updates and whatnot. Feel free to skip it if you hate long author's notes.)_

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><p><strong>Pairing<strong>: **Paul/Bella**

**Genre: Hurt/Comfort and Romance  
>Rating<strong>: **M for strong language**  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Paul hates the holidays ... for good reason. Bella brings him a gift he never knew he wanted or needed.

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**Holidaze**

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_Post-New Moon, no cliff jump, Deadwood Sullen never came back, yada, yada, yada..._

Paul and Jake ambled along quietly through the old growth snow-crusted forest on the outer edge of the rez, making their way back around to Paul's place on the outskirts. They'd taken to leaving their clothes somewhere inconspicuous outside because they'd get soggy tied to their ankles for a ten-hour patrol in the sloppy, three-day old, crunchy snow.

The rest of the pack was scattered around the rez, most of 'em at home with their families, celebrating the holiday. They would all take turns patrolling short shifts throughout the long night, but Paul had deliberately volunteered for a long one on Christmas Eve so the others could spend more time with their families ... and so he could spend less time at home staring at four walls and-if he was really lucky-avoid the sloppy fucking Christmas cheer playing in a loop on every channel on network TV for the next twenty-four hours.

Jake, the baby-Alpha-in-training, happy-fucking-boy-scout that he was, volunteered to run the long patrol with Paul in order to give the pack more time with their families. He arranged for Billy to spend the day with Charlie, then for Seth to pick him up and take him over to the Clearwaters' for dinner when Charlie took his turn working the late Christmas Eve shift so his deputies could spend time with their young families. Bella was supposed to join the Blacks at the Clearwaters' later.

Paul's pace slowed cautiously when they approached his run-down, piece of shit house. The scent of burning motor oil lingered in the air from a vehicle Paul knew for certain had no good reason to be out here.

Jake huffed a lupine chuckle, "_Yeah, I'll have to check her O-rings soon. She's burning through a quart of oil a week now, I bet._"

He looked at Paul when the big red truck came into view parked in front of his house. "_Don't be pissed okay? Seth was happy about having most of tonight and tomorrow off for the holiday and let it slip that you were going to be alone today and tomorrow and that you volunteered for the extra patrols because you didn't have anything better to do. Then Sue told her how she asked you to come over for Christmas Eve dinner and you said it was 'just another goddamn day like any other day and what did it matter?' and that was when Bells pulled her bossy boots on and decided to try to fix you again. She means well_," he said apologetically as the bluesy-moody strains of Elvis's "White Christmas" drifted towards them from the house along with the scents of ginger and chocolate, a little vanilla, and some almond.

"_Is she playing Christmas music? And baking cookies? _**_In my house?_**" Paul's wolf's eyes widened in bewildered outrage.

"_I think she might be decorating, too. She made me help her get out some decorations and lights and stuff last night when I stopped by her house after patrol_," Jake murmured quietly in the pack mind, nodding his muzzle toward the faint twinkling lights behind the blinds in the front window before he trotted around back to grab his clothes.

Paul stalked after Jake, a muted growl rumbling in his chest. He rose up on his rear legs and phased out mid-stride as he climbed the back stairs in full view of the kitchen window. He heard a startled yelp from inside and chuckled darkly.

"Paul... " Jake growled the warning from the yard below the window-out of sight-where he'd tucked his clothes before patrol so he could change in privacy knowing Bella might be there when they came back. He'd been very firmly, but lovingly friend-zoned the previous summer, so he knew she had little-to-no interest in seeing his goodies-no matter how fucking hot he looked buck ass naked. _Her loss_, he snickered. She was his best friend. He figured the least he could do was try not flash her his ass while _she_tried to do something nice for one of his pack mates.

Paul's lip curled in response as he turned on Jake and told him to fuck off.

"Whatever, dude. Just try to be nice? Please? I gotta run home and shower or I'll be late for dinner. Tell Bells I'll meet her over at the Clearwaters' in an hour?"

Paul's single sharp nod of assent didn't do much to set Jake's mind at ease, but he heard Bella deliberately humming Christmas carols inside-loudly-so he figured she was determined to carry on no matter how big a dick Paul was going to be.

"Be nice," he ordered, jabbing his index finger at him once before taking off.

Paul took the stairs two at a time, yanking the door open and nearly pulling it off its hinges.

"SWAN!" he bellowed, stomping into the kitchen, glaring at her murderously. "You interfering little..."

"Leech-fucker?" she supplied, sweeping past him, rolling her eyes, all business with a stack of tins and a picture frame balanced in her arms. "Yeah, yeah. I know. 'Go away, pale face.' 'Stop moving my shit around, Swan. I can't find anything when you pull this cleaning shit on me.' 'I left those underwear on the floor for a reason, you nagging twit.' I've heard it all before, so play a new tune. That one's getting old, Lahote," she sneered.

She arranged the tins on the counter and fussed with a few other things, then turned around to glare back at him in challenge, bravely bearding the wolf in his own den.

"Why are you doing this?" he snapped. "Is it just because you can't _help_ yourself? You like interfering and being underfoot all the goddamn time?"

She cocked her hip and crossed her arms, barking back at him, "You took a ten-hour patrol on Christmas Eve so the others could spend more time with their families. You're always stepping up and taking care of everyone else! What?" She threw her hands in the air. "We aren't allowed to take care of you once in a while? Show you that it means something to us-the little things _you_ do? I don't understand how someone who's so thoughtful sometimes can be such an ungrateful prick to everyone!"

She stopped then, dropping her eyes to the floor, murmuring, "Or maybe it's just me."

Paul's heart clenched in rebellion at the sound of those hateful words, the self-doubt in them. He just hated feeling like a fucking charity case, like she _had_to do those things for him. That was why he'd been avoiding the Clearwaters' place tonight. He didn't realize...

He watched, feeling a little helpless and out of his depth as she swiftly gathered her things and threw on her coat, her lip wobbling a little tearfully, the silence between them humming with tension.

"Swan," he called after her, then cursed, "I mean ... Bella?"

She stopped at the front door and sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat.

She turned around, her eyes cautiously seeking out his, worrying her shaking lip between her teeth as she waited for him to yell again when a single tear spilled over.

But he didn't yell. That one tear razed all of his self-righteous indignation down to the ground. He brought his hands up in a helpless gesture, not sure where to start or how to go about fixing this, or if he should even bother trying.

She put her things on the chair by the door and approached him slowly. When she stood so close she could feel his heat, she threw her arms around his waist and closed her eyes, letting a few more tears escape and hugging him quickly as she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Paul."

Then she was gone, rushing to the chair, snatching up her empty boxes and leftover lights, and out the door.

Paul stood there, shocked into silence.

She clattered down the stairs, heaved the stuff in the bed of her truck and cranked the engine, taking off in a cloud of billowing black smoke.

Paul still stood there, just thinking.

She hugged him.

She put up a tree and hung stockings-enough for the whole damn pack, from the look of it.

She fucking baked cookies.

Nobody had ever baked Paul cookies. Not in _this_ house. His house had never smelled like cookies.

He wondered what kind.

He wandered out to the kitchen, past the tidied shelves and dusted furniture. He looked down. Fuck, she even scrubbed the fucking baseboards and vacuumed and put out little area rugs he had no idea he had. _Who does that shit?_ he wondered.

He found a stack of tins on the kitchen counter-half a dozen of them or more-filled with cookies of all kinds.

In front of the cookies was an empty picture frame and a note tucked under a sprig of mistletoe.

_Paul,_

_I would have framed a picture of you and I as well, but I couldn't find any, so I baked you some cookies instead to make your house smell like Christmas and left you this frame. I'd like for you to join us for dinner at the Clearwaters' tonight so we can fix that. Fill the frame, I mean, with a picture of you and me. Come for dessert at the very least, if you're not up for the big family dinner. My dad is working tonight and my mom is in Jacksonville with her new husband, Phil. You're not the only one who's without their family on Christmas Eve. There's no reason to stay that way, though. Come have dinner with us. Please?_

_Merry Christmas, Paul._

_Love,_

_Bella_

He looked up, scanning the house. There were framed pictures of him with the pack everywhere, all over the house; there were big frames, little frames, collages, even a big picture the size of a poster-a picture Bella had taken of his, Sam's, and Jared's wolves from a distance when they were phased to obscure their massive size.

He wandered into the living room and found more; pictures of him when he was a kid playing with Sam and Jared, and even Leah on the fourth of July, as well as pictures of Jake, Embry, Quil, and Seth facing off against the big kids in a game of touch football at the beach before a bonfire when they were young teens. Every available surface was cluttered with newly-framed pictures.

Pictures of his family, he realized, drawing up short.

Bella had given him _family_ for Christmas this year-had left pictures to show him and baked cookies to prove that there was someone who cared enough to make his house smell like a home. Everything she'd done was to remind him that he didn't need to be alone tonight-he had a family to be with.

He stood there for a second in a daze, unsure of what to do. Would she really still want him to come to dinner after the way he spoke to her?

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Bella was talking to Leah, explaining how the camera app on her phone worked and what she wanted her to do if, on the off chance, Paul actually showed up that night, when all the noise in the house suddenly ceased-everything but the tinkling background noise of A Charlie Brown Christmas playing on TV.

Every human, every wolf, _everyone_, went completely silent.

Standing just inside the front door-dressed in a pair of neat, dark-wash jeans and a charcoal grey shirt that Bella herself had bought, pressed, and left hanging on his closet door that afternoon in the hope that he would take the hint-was Paul Lahote. He wore an old, well-loved pair of motorcycle boots and looked like hot sex on a stick with the top few buttons of the shirt undone.

He was the only guy she knew who somehow managed to look hotter wearing _more_ clothes, rather than less.

"_Paul?_" she whispered, not sure whether she could believe her eyes.

_He came_...

He shifted to the side, shaking the fresh snow out of his hair and propping his back up against the door frame as he dropped his eyes to the floor, one booted foot kicked out against the opposite side, toes digging into the molding, "I got your note."

"My note?"

"The one you left under the mistletoe, by the cookies," he said as he held it up, twirling the sprig between his fingers.

"Oh. Yeah, I figured," she said, stepping closer to give them the illusion of privacy in the silent room.

"The house looks nice. I should have thanked you instead of snapping and trying to run you off again," he admitted quietly.

"It's okay."

"I didn't get you anything."

"You came."

"Yeah?" his eyebrows ticked up, in surprise.

"Yeah," she smiled.

He straightened up, clearing his throat, "Listen, if you're not doing anything-" He cleared his throat again, shifting nervously. "Fuck it," he muttered, snapping out of it and lunging for her suddenly. He pulled her into a hug.

She stood awkwardly for a second, just a little terrified and not sure where to put her hands or if it was okay to hug him back. Then, relaxing minutely, she let her hands fall against his shirt, soothing up and down his lower back, mimicking his movements.

"Thanks," he murmured in her ear, "For the cookies and ... everything." He leaned back and looked into her beautiful wide eyes-really looked for the first time-and reached up to tuck the sprig of mistletoe behind her ear.

"You're welcome," she whispered, getting a little teary again and trying to brush it off as she pulled away, lifting her shoulder to her ear in a dismissive shrug. "It's just a few cookies. No big deal."

The unshed tears in her eyes broke down that final barrier, the wall of the inner sanctum, the place he never let anyone into and he whispered apologetically, "I've been a dick."

She lifted a hand cautiously, gently stroking from his temple down to his jaw as his eyelids fluttered in pleasure at her careful touch. She smiled, not the least bit surprised he hadn't actually apologized, and answered, "I know," and then she was kissing him as his lips parted on the beginning of a laugh.

Then he was kissing her back.

_Click,_ Bella heard her phone and smiled at Leah's timing. This was a moment she never wanted to forget.

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><p><strong>AN: **_This one still makes me smile every time I read it. I hope you all still enjoy it as much I loved writing it!_

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. A Party of Four, JacobBellaEmbryLeah

**A/N: **_This is just a little idea I was kicking around a few months ago and never published. It's been languishing in my junk file ever since. It is gratuitous, unapologetic, and indulgent in the extreme. I hope reading it makes you squirm as much as I did writing it. Enjoy!_

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Inspiration for this one-shot: "Little Red Riding Hood" by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs.

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Petrichor: A Party of Four

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After a quick rinse-off and warm up in the new outdoor shower the pack built over the weekend, Paul grabbed a towel and a pair of shorts from the trunk Jake and Bella kept on the screen porch for the pack. He slipped the shorts on and eased the screen door open, slipping quietly into the old restaurant reception hall that would serve as a kind of man cave for the pack now. It had easy access to the forest and the outdoor shower Bella and Leah had insisted was a priority (with a water heater that made water hot enough for even a wolf to feel it). The pack could let themselves in from the basement walk-out patio without disturbing the Alpha and Beta couples upstairs in the main residence.

The old lodge was working out really well as a pack house. When Jake and Bella decided to start commuting to Port A that autumn for courses at the U-Dub satellite campus with Leah and Embry, the four of them took the next logical step and started looking for a place to live together. Four roommates sharing one space would make having their own place that much more affordable.

At least, that was the story they passed around the rez and fed to the council at the time.

Billy knew what the real deal was and he was concerned that if they moved off the rez, they might never be fully accepted by the tribe. He pushed Jake, Embry, and Leah to petition the council for either a land or housing grant. There were plenty of old homes on the rez that would have been a cinch for the pack to fix up in a matter of a few weeks. Then Leah remembered that there was an old lodge that the tribe used as a substitute for the tribal council center when they were kids when the new hall was being built in the center of the rez. The lodge was once a small hotel, playing host to hunters in the fall and winter, and hikers and beach goers in the warmer months back in the 60s. There were a half dozen or more guest rooms on the second and third floors, an old restaurant and bar on the bottom floor that had been studiously maintained by the tribe for special events like indoor weddings, a couple of massive stone fire places, and lots of open space. There were also a bunch of private cabins on the property that just needed a little TLC. They could be rented out or used by other members of the pack.

It would be the perfect space for the pack to gather, so Jake put in the request on behalf of himself, Embry, and Leah, and waited. Elders Ateara and Black jumped on the idea and pushed the other members of the Council of Elders to grudgingly grant their request.

Paul was seriously considering Jake's offer to renovate one of the old private rental cabins for himself. He could be close to the pack, have his own space, and get away from the memories of his fucked up childhood in his parents' old place. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. Not to mention, living nearby meant having an open invitation for most meals.

Bella and Embry were awesome cooks.

Bella insisted he and the other wolves stop by to crash for a few hours and have breakfast with them after early morning patrols anyway. Jake and Emb had assured him that he was welcome any time-that he wouldn't disturb the four of them sleeping in their rooms on the third floor if he did, but he still tried to keep the noise to a minimum. He respected that the Alpha didn't share his space with just anyone and that their living arrangements might make them leery of unannounced visitors at off-hours.

He just wanted to nap on the couch in the den for now. He knew Bella would be pissed that he hadn't taken one of the guest rooms they were renovating, but then she'd want to fluff the pillows, air the bedding, and put out fresh towels or some shit like that-treat him like a real guest.

He wasn't comfortable with her going to all that trouble for him, no matter how sincere she was about it being no trouble. It made his shoulder blades itch. She was such a, such a ... pack mom. She mothered him and he both loved it and hated it because he had no idea how to respond to it. He'd never been babied or fussed over before and, besides, Bella was younger than him. He knew her mom was kind of a flake and a drunk, and that Bella had all but raised herself. The last thing she needed now that she was out on her own was to be taking care of an entire pack of teenage wolves.

Maybe there was something he could do to help her? He'd give it some thought.

He turned the corner and stooped slightly to duck under the mistletoe in the low stone arched doorway of the newly-renovated den.

His breath caught and his heart sped up at the erotic tableau that was laid out before him. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Embry sat, naked, on the deep tobacco-colored leather couch, head tipped back, mouth open. His face was relaxed in the soft lines of sleep. His arms were wrapped tenderly around a practically naked Bella. Emb's biceps and shoulders were scored with a criss-cross of deep, red scratches that were still healing. Even in sleep and covered with rosy welts, he held Bella gently, like she was the most fragile, precious thing in his world.

Bella sat astride Embry's lap, head resting in the crook of his neck, lips pressed to his throat in her sleep. Her long mahogany hair was a mess from Embry's hands. The thick disorderly curls nearly obscured his view of the bright red scratch marks and faint bruising in the shape of Embry's long fingers that marred the usually creamy, smooth skin of her back.

Her face was gently flushed with a tinge of pink, her expression totally blissed-out from her exertions.

Paul knew that look well from his own sexcapades since he'd phased; she was freshly-fucked and all tuckered out. It looked like it had been a pretty wild ride, too, judging by the scratches and bruising.

She wore nothing but sheer black stockings with that fuck-hot back seam that always made Paul drool and a satiny red garter belt. He looked closer. Printed all over the satin garter belt were little bunches of mistletoe. He chuckled darkly, imagining all the kissing that had happened under _that_ mistletoe the previous night.

She cuddled Emb, her knees bent at either side of his waist, toes curled and tucked under his thighs. A scrap of red silk and a pair of tiny black leather stilettos that could only have fit Bella lay jumbled on the floor at the end of the couch.

Embry had one hand resting on her bare ass below the sleek garter belt, his first two fingers snugged between her cheeks, holding her firmly in place. The other hand grasped the nape of her neck under her hair, just above a dark purple bruise in the shape of a bite mark. Paul could see it yellowing as it healed. Bella's arms were draped lightly around Embry's shoulders, cradling him in return.

Paul's eyebrows shot up as he noticed one final detail; Bella appeared to have red and green glitter and flaky, dried cum all over her back. The kinky little freak.

Speaking of kinky freaks . . .

At their feet, sprawled out together on the floor in front of the couch under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree in the corner, were Jake and Leah, both bare-assed naked except for the black silk stockings tied like handcuffs around Leah's wrists in a big pretty bow.

That was a Christmas bow Paul thought he'd have enjoyed opening, wrapped around the enticing gift of a nude Leah.

She lay mostly on her stomach and left side, hands tucked into her chest, one knee bent slightly out to the side; the beautiful, burnished-red skin of her lush ass glowed still with a hint of pink in the shape of Jake's hand.

_Leah lets Jake spank her?_ Paul's eyes widened in awe.

He glanced back up to Bella and Embry, noticing her bottom had a hint of pink handprints, too. He had to adjust his dick in his shorts when he let his mind wander to the possibility that they'd gotten those spankings together while they watched each other or maybe even side-by-side.

A dreamy grin crossed his features. Paul was definitely an ass man, through and through.

Jake lay nearly face-down as well, one leg hitched up a little over Leah, his body partially covering her as if to shield her nudity even in sleep. His left arm, bent, cradled her head, preventing it from resting directly on the plush, second-hand rug below. His right arm was slung possessively over her hip, but his open hand cupped the lower part of Embry's calf, connecting the four of them even at rest.

Paul's eyes nearly fell out of his head when he noticed the dried cum flaking off of Jake's back, too.

_Holy shit,_ he thought. _I knew, I mean, of course, I knew, but I . . . I never realized . . ._ _They really do fuck each other __**and**_ _each others' girls. Wow. _Paul's mind was blown.

Paul didn't think there was anybody he'd ever been _that_ comfortable with in his life. When he really thought about it, he realized he thought of the four of them as a unit these days. Like a couple, only more. He thought they were lucky to have each other to rely on. No revulsion on his part. Certainly no jealousy. He was happy for them, for his pack. He'd never had any kind of real family, much less that kind of support.

He did envy them the love and companionship, though. He thought he'd like a family, someday, too.

A glance around the room showed clothing had been hastily removed and tossed haphazardly, laying wherever it fell in their hurry to undress one another after the pack's big Christmas party the night before.

Paul had gone, too, but had left early to run his patrol, relieving Quil at two o'clock that morning. He'd been spending less and less time lately trawling the seedier clubs, hooking up with his usual types of dates-easy and desperate. Anyone not looking for a long-term relationship was his type. Ever since he decided to follow Jake as Alpha, he'd felt like there was something-_someone,_ rather-better out there, waiting for him.

He'd become content since then, waiting to see what hand fate dealt him. Would he imprint soon because his wolf was eager to be rid of him or would he find a mate who would accept him and his mark? He hoped it was the latter. He was actually becoming eager to find love the old fashioned way and he wasn't sure he could stop phasing any time soon anyway. He didn't have that kind of control yet.

A throat clearing brought an end to his quiet reverie.

It was Jake, eyes still closed, whispering against the soft skin of Leah's shoulder, "Everything okay, man?"

"Huh?" Paul started, then dropped his voice as he snapped his eyes up to the ceiling to avoid staring, "Yeah, sorry, man. Didn't mean to barge in on you guys. Bells said I should just crash here whenever and, well . . . I was just going to take advantage of a hot shower and a quick nap before breakfast. Um . . . Hey, man, you got a little- I mean, there's something on your ba- Listen, I should go-"

"Dude, relax," Jake breathed softly, leaning over Leah to pull a soft cotton throw from the stack of blankets under the end table. He flicked it open over her motionless form.

Paul judiciously studied the Christmas decorations hanging from the low coffered ceiling, deliberately not dropping his eyes to look at his cum-covered Alpha no matter his order to relax. Paul thought the white things woven into the evergreen garlands dangling from the ceiling must be mistletoe, too. Huh. Somebody decked the shit out of Jake and Emb's man cave with the mistletoe. He _really_ didn't want to think about why the guys' space was dripping with bouquets of kissing weeds.

Sometimes, there were things a guy did did not want to know were happening under the mistletoe between two of his friends. _This_ was one of those times.

"You're pack. We told you that you were welcome anytime and we meant it. This is all on us. We shouldn't have passed out down here. We know better; with half a dozen single guys coming and going at all hours of the day and night, we should have moved to the master bedroom down here, at least. Grab a seat out at the bar. I'll join you in a minute," Jake instructed, tucking the blanket around Leah and removing the stocking bindings from her wrists. He leaned over to whisper softly and nipped at her ear, grazing a hot hand down her back, "I'll be back in a bit to take you to bed."

She hummed a little "m'kay, Jay" and curled up on her side, pulling Jake's rumpled dress shirt from the floor by her head up to her face and inhaling deeply before she relaxed into a more restful slumber.

Embry roused slightly as Paul was about to walk out - just enough to accept the blanket Jake was holding out to lay over them. Embry adjusted it to cover Bella's bare back more fully, then wrapped his arms over the top of the blanket, tucking her into his body and shifting to stretch out on the couch. Jake brushed a hand tenderly over Embry's temple as he settled back down.

Embry leaned into the touch, a muted lupine rumble emitting from his throat.

Jake was only a few seconds behind Paul as he crossed the room to the old bar in the now-defunct restaurant with its polished, dark, wood-paneled walls, brass rails, and sparkling glasses.

Paul looked around in admiration. the four of them had really put a lot of elbow grease into this place over the last few months.

Thankfully, Jake had pulled on some boxers and a t-shirt before joining him, Paul noticed, so he wouldn't have to think about Embry's midnight deposit all over Jake's back.

Paul still wasn't sure where to look, though. He'd just realized that his Beta was most likely fucking his Alpha and maybe vice versa. The wolf and Paul were having trouble wrapping their shared minds around it.

Paul looked at the floor. He figured that was the safest bet.

Jake slapped him on the back and laughed quietly as he took the seat beside him at the bar, "Don't spend too much time trying to figure out how it works. You'll give yourself an aneurysm."

Paul nodded in consternation, his brows drawing together, deep in thought, "Yeah. Man, I knew. I guess I just didn't process it until now. You, Leah, and Emb keep such a tight lid on your thoughts when you're phased, you know?"

Jake 'hmm'ed in response, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them, waiting for Paul to continue. He knew there would be questions when they stopped hiding the true nature of his and Emb's part of their unique foursome.

There was something Paul _had_ to know, though, "Your wolf is happy? I mean, he's okay with it?"

Jake looked thoughtful for a second like he was double-checking with his wolf, "My wolf loves Embry like he loves Leah. My love for Bella is different. There's some woo-woo Alpha's mate mojo going on there that nothing trumps, but the wolf views all three of them as our mates. He wants to please them and revels in the pleasure they bring us. So do I. I'm not suggesting the wolf can never be wrong, but if it harms no one, we're all consenting adults, and it brings us any measure of happiness, who am I to judge what the wolf spirits have in store for us?"

Paul nodded in understanding, "Yeah, I get that. Listen, I'm sorry I just walked in here. If I'd just stopped and listened at the door to make sure this floor was clear, I would have known not to walk in."

Jake smiled, "Don't sweat it. I'm sure it won't be the last time you walk in on us. We don't have much control over the where and when of it yet when the four of us are together. We seem to just amp each other up and lose all sense of cognitive reasoning in the heat of the moment. More woo-woo wolf mojo." Jake shrugged at the end of his explanation. It was the best they'd come up with so far.

"Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. The four of you all together like this-it has to have some kind of mystical significance, right? It would probably be difficult to harness-like right on the edge of out of control, whatever it is. There's something else. Have you noticed you just used the words 'cognitive reasoning'? I mean, you're only seventeen, almost eighteen, and all of a sudden you, Emb, and Leah sound like Bella - like you're years older and way smarter than the usual rez kid with a GED."

Jake's mouth popped open in surprise. He hadn't noticed until Paul pointed it out. Maybe there was more to this than the mystical stuff they'd only guessed at so far. He knew Bella was crazy smart, like genius smart-always had been. Was it possible they were getting some kind of feedback from her? Could she be sharing some of her innate gifts with them, too?

Paul scratched his head while he mulled over a possible solution for the more immediate problem, "Um ... about me walking in. Uh, maybe we should put up a sign by the outdoor shower since we all use it before we come in the house after phasing-a reminder to check that the coast is clear before barging in. It _is_ your home, after all. You should be able to have sex wherever the hell you want with your mates without us barging in all the time. Hell, we could even knock like normal people for once!"

Jake laughed, grinning broadly and nodding his head once emphatically, "Knocking on the door. Novel concept. Maybe I should just put the old customer warning bell back on the door, too."

"There you go," Paul chuckled. "The alternative is dog collars with bells on them for the pups." He winked. "Listen, you should probably get the girls up to bed before anybody else stumbles in and gets the free show I got. The girls won't be happy that I saw them as it is. Imagine if Seth were to walk in here right now . . . ?"

Jake cringed, "Good point. Take one of the spare bedrooms up at this end, Paul. I'll get Emb to help me move the girls to the room down the other end."

"The master? Is that one done yet?" Paul quirked a brow at him.

"Almost. It's the only bed we'll all fit in together down here. We don't sleep well when we're apart, so we don't if we can avoid it. We got most of it out of our systems last night anyway. We're only going to sleep-mostly," he winked lasciviously.

"Whatever, dude. I need a nap. Try not to wake me when you bugger Embry later in retaliation for the crusty back. I have delicate virgin ears," Paul teased.

Jake laughed, "I'll make sure to clamp a hand over his big mouth while I'm at it. He's a moaner."

"TMI! Holy fuck! Way too much information!" Paul threw his hands up to cover those delicate virgin ears of his. La-la-la-ing, he took off to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen.

Jake returned to the den, padding in on silent feet to avoid disturbing the girls and laying a hand on Emb's shoulder to wake him gently, "Time for bed. Give me a hand with the girls?"

Embry nodded, shifting his hold on Bella and wrapping her legs around his waist. He rose to his feet and waited for Jake. Bella snuggled deeper into his warm embrace. He stroked her glossy hair and shifted his other hand lower under her rear, taking a second to enjoy the opportunity to stroke the exposed, dewy, pink folds. They dripped with the copious combined efforts of himself and Jake from the previous night. Bella hummed with pleasure and squirmed delightedly over his searching digits. She smelled incredible covered as she was in their scents.

"You'll get more of that later," he promised her with a kiss. "You need some rest now."

She gave a little nod and kissed his throat.

Jake eased Leah's arms into his dress shirt for modesty's sake and hoisted her easily into his bulging arms, her soaked, sticky thighs resting on his forearm. He could feel the heat from her drenched pussy pulsing against his sensitive skin. His and Embry's cum seeped, glistening, from her soaked slit with every step of the short trip across the wide hall to the largest of the spare bedrooms. Jake inhaled that heavenly scent of hers indulgently, opening his mouth and pulling the scent over his tongue to taste as well as scent her.

No one could accuse he and Embry of ignoring the spirits' mandate to increase the size of the pack and their tribe with their mates. Jake himself would be shocked if one of the girls didn't end up pregnant in the next few months or so. His wolf was rabid to fill Bella and Leah with his seed. He wanted them soaked in it, drowning in it, until one of them swelled with the first pack pup.

Embry's wolf felt the same, he knew. Leah's sex drive was nearly as great as Bella's these days. She couldn't even phase in with anyone other than Jake or Embry, so consumed were her she-wolf's thoughts with lust for their cocks and cum. It could be a little unnerving, that constant lustful intensity. The markings had only increased that intensity ten-fold in their lusty female mates.

Jake hoped that intensity would settle a little with pregnancy. They would need a lot more sleep to grow a healthy pup than they were getting in this first, frenzied mating season.

Paul was just emerging from the kitchen, but halted in the doorway to offer the foursome the illusion of privacy when he realized they were crossing the hall. Jake cradled Leah in his arms and Bella was wrapped around Embry, arms and legs clamped around him like a Rhesus monkey. The blanket that he'd wrapped around her bare back slipped away as he walked, giving Paul the full view of Embry's rock hard, massive cock rubbing wetly beneath Bella's juicy pink folds.

Paul lowered his eyes to the floor in a show of submission and respect to the Alpha and Beta pairs. He closed himself off in one of the nearly-finished spare rooms. Tossing his shorts over a chair, he crawled naked between the sheets. Bella refused to skimp to save money by buying cheap sheets. She always got the high thread-count ones because she liked how they felt on her skin now that she could hardly stand to wear clothes, too. The marking had increased her resting temperature to slightly warmer than a wolf's. Paul understood her obsession with the sheets, though. The high thread-count made even cotton feel like cool silk against his heated skin.

Each bed had a quilt, too, hand-made by Bella's Aunt Molly or her Grandma Swan-not that any of the wolves needed a quilt.

Paul lay there for a few minutes, thinking over his unexpected discovery in the den that morning. His dick throbbed and he knew he'd have to deal with it before he could even think about sleep. He threw back the quilt, rubbing the moisture that beaded on the tip of his painfully hard cock down his length. He couldn't shake the amazing mental image of Bella's tiny pink pussy cradling Embry's huge dick.

He tightened his grip and used his other hand to press the sensitive spot under his balls, prolonging his pleasure, tugging and grunting, his imagination running wild. He was assaulted with images of Jake flipping Leah over onto her bound hands and knees so he could ride her hot she-wolf puss hard, giving her a few stinging slaps to heighten her pleasure as he pistoned in and out of her at inhuman speed.

She could take that kind of pounding, too. She'd want it - the rough, feral fuck and the punishing slaps. Her wolf would demand it.

A hint of pain would make the pleasure so much sweeter, Paul thought, pounding his slick cock mercilessly in his thick fist, as one last image pushed him over the edge; Leah nibbling and finger-fucking Bella's juicy, pink pussy while Embry reamed Leah's ass and Jake rode Embry, the four of them wailing in the throes of ecstasy together, slicked with sweat and reeking of wolf pheromones.

Paul had to bite his lip to keep from shouting when he erupted; thick jets of cum spilling all over his fist and stomach. He couldn't contain the throaty, satisfied moan that escaped, however. His vision went gray and he nearly blacked out from the intensity. It was overwhelming.

He found some tissues on the night stand and cleaned up, not wanting to mess up the sheets.

Just as he pulled the covers up and turned on his side to close his eyes, Paul heard Embry whisper from the far end of the hall, "Sounded like a good one, man."

Paul smiled.

Jake whispered back with a quiet laugh, "Yeah, his spank bank was overflowing with images from this morning. He'll be out for a few hours."

Paul chuckled quietly and drifted off to sleep, nestled snug in the bed, visions of tender pink flesh, erect coral nipples, and glistening dusky skin dancing in his head.

It sure as shit beat visions of sugar plums.

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_Ha-cha-cha! I know what you pervs were thinkin'! Muahaha! So, here it is, a smutty foursome one-shot where no one gets any action except for Paul and his date, Miss Righty. ;) Leave me some love in a review! If there's enough interest, I might turn this one into a multi-chapter fic!  
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_**End note:** Just a reminder, my other fic, the multi-chapter story, Yours, Mine, Ours, has been nominated for Best Erotica and I've been nominated for Best Breakthrough Author in the Fandom Choice Awards, among a couple of other nominations. It's such an honor! If you haven't voted yet, you should head over there when you're done reading and reviewing this one-shot and cast your vote! the fandom choice awards dot blogspot dot com_

__"Yours, Mine, Ours" has also been nominated in the Fanfic-n-tastic Awards Twilight Edition for Best Alternate Universe, Best Kiss, Hottest Lemon, and Most Alpha-Worthy Wolf! Voting is still open at fanfic-n-tastic dot blogspot dot com slash p slash vote dot html__

___This one-shot, formerly title Little Red & Her Big Bad Wolves: A Party of Four, is my smutty entry in the Tricky Raven Annual Holiday Contest for Artists and Authors. My un-smutty entry is my other one-shot, called Holidaze. The voting window for that contest opens at midnight on December 22nd and closes at 11PM EST on December 23rd. Winners will be announced on December 24th. Put it on your calendar now to remind yourself to vote then! I will do my best to remember to post a follow-up to this as a reminder to vote beginning on the 22nd at midnight! Thanks for all your support! ~ChrissiHR___


	4. The Wolf Riders, JacobBellaMolly

**This is a full-length chapter sneak peek that I shared exclusively for the first time on January 11, 2014 with the viewers of the 2014 Fandom Choice Awards Live Results Show.  
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**Author:** ChrissiHR, **Pre-reader:** meliz875**, Banner:** Dontcallmeleelee

**Rating:** MA, strong language and adult situations discussed

**Timeline:** Post-New Moon, no cliff-jump, the Cullens haven't returned.

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**Petrichor: The Wolf Riders**

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**Jacob**

"Jacob," Bella's Aunt Molly greeted me with a smile, swinging the screen door open to motion me in. "I'm sorry for summoning you this way, but I had to speak to you alone, to explain some changes that will be coming soon that you'll need to be aware of."

I fidgeted nervously in the family room, feeling too big in the small space as usual, not sure if I should sit or stand. This didn't sound like good news.

"No need to be nervous, young man. Come into the kitchen. I made some of that mint iced tea you like so much," she gestured for me to take a seat and grabbed the pitcher from the fridge. She poured us each a glass over ice and little sprigs of mint from her backyard garden.

I took a sip and sighed contentedly, closing my eyes briefly. It tasted so fresh and green, like taking deep breaths when I was phased wolf running through the woods on patrol.

When I open my eyes, I realized Molly was looking at me curiously, so I explained, "Bella makes that for me when she and her dad come over for dinner. It reminds me of running wolf on patrol on a really nice day. I didn't realize the tea was a family recipe."

She smiled and sipped her own absently, "Mm … yes. The mint cuttings for her kitchen garden, and yours, came from mine when you were both still babies. Your mothers both loved how it made their kitchens smell afterward."

My wolf chuffed happily at the thought of Bella carrying on a family tradition like that for our sakes. It made me happy, too**—**the reminder of the history I shared with Bells, the reminder of my mom. I'd forgotten that Mom used to make the tea, too.

"I suspect Bella makes it because she thought you might miss your mother's," she said gently.

"Oh, yeah … I guess I kind of forgot about Mom making it. She's been gone so long now … " I trailed off.

She patted my hand, "I know. Deep down, I think Bella just recognizes that it makes you happy when she makes the tea for you. The reason for your happiness won't matter to her, as long as you're smiling."

I looked at the glass and the edges of my vision blurred as a fuzzy, long-forgotten memory came to the fore. "Mom … mom used to freeze the mint right in the ice cubes. I picked it out of the glass if it wasn't frozen in the ice. It was green and I didn't like salad, so she promised not to put salad in my glass. We compromised on the ice cubes and shook on it," I said, my voice hitching at the memory of my mom pouring the tea over my special ice cubes and patting my head.

I looked up at Molly in wonder, "I didn't remember that until just now."

"You weren't meant to," she whispered sagely and the tightness around my heart dissipated.

"What do you mean?" I asked, relaxed now that the urge to cry over Mom's memory had passed.

"You're coming of age, young Alpha. Many things will be revealed to you in the coming months. That's why I called you here today, to explain what's coming. You need to understand, so you don't let anger and jealousy color your reactions to the coming changes."

"What changes?" The nerves came back, not as bad as before, but I didn't like the sound of where this was going.

"Bella-" she began.

"What about Bella?" I growled.

"Calm yourself, young Alpha. It's nothing bad, only different from what you've been taught to expect."

"You wonder sometimes why you've never imprinted on my niece, is that correct?" she asked.

I felt like she'd just punched me in the gut, but I answered anyway, whispering, "Yes."

"And if I told you again that you weren't meant to?"

"I'd wonder how the spirits could be so cruel. I've loved her my entire life, so much so that I wondered if it wasn't possible to imprint as a human at birth," I explained. "She was there, you know. The day I was born. Mom told me the story not long before she died.

"Renee came to attend Mom's birth at the tribal medical center. Renee was some kind of certified birth coach dou-loo or something and my mom wanted her there because my dad had to deal with the twins and all his tribal responsibilities and there was no way to know for sure that he'd be able to stay for the entire labor and delivery. Babies take a while to come, I guess.

"Becca was climbing a tree outside the medical center while Charlie was watching her and Rach. She fell and broke her arm. Dad left the room for a few minutes to help Charlie deal with the twins and get Becca taken care of by the doctor on call. The doctor had to leave Mom's room for a few minutes, too, to order X-rays for Becca.

"Mom said I was born in the five minutes it took for the doctor to sign the order for X-rays and administer pain meds to Becca. Renee delivered me herself. It all happened really quickly. Bella was two at the time, but she didn't freak out. She climbed up on the bed and sat beside Mom. Mom said Bella looked at me so longingly while Mom held me that first time that she offered to let Bella hold me next.

"Bella was the first person to hold me after my mother, even before my own father. Mom said she curled up on her side around Bella and laid me in her lap, supporting my head for her. She said Bella kissed my head and said, 'Love you, Baby.' Those are the first words Bella ever said to me."

I looked Molly right in the eye as I expressed my fondest wish, "I hope those are the last words**—**the last voice**—**I hear before I die as well."

Her face lit up in a dazzling smile, "I had no idea you were such a romantic, Jacob Black. You're a born ladies man**—**just like your father."

_Ew …_

The smile faded naturally and she continued. "You and Bella do share a special connection. There are things … things you don't know about imprinting. Secrets that aren't mine to tell," she rushed to explain before I could ask what she meant.

"However, there are things about Bella, and Charlie as well, that I _can_ tell you. She's a member of my family and I'm the oldest surviving member which gives me certain rights. First and foremost, you need to know that Charlie knows about the wolves," she explained.

"What?" I whispered incredulously. Then the implications set in. "You told him?!"

"Don't shout at me, young man. I did _not_ tell him. He figured it out when he was five years old. He's known most of his life. He's not stupid!"

The supernatural world as I knew it just got turned on its head as I considered how Charlie could possibly know about the pack.

"There were no wolves in La Push when Charlie and my dad were kids. My great-granddad stopped phasing when my dad was still in diapers," I reasoned.

A sad smile crossed her face, "Your great-granddad wasn't the final wolf to give up phasing from the former pack. There were two others after him. One of them is still alive."

"What?" My mind worked at light speed as I considered the possibilities. Then it hit me, "Old Quil?"

She nodded.

"Does he … when did he phase last?"

"He's been phasing once every couple of years to slow down our aging to be sure we'd live long enough to pass on our knowledge to the next pack."

"'We'? His phasing slows down the aging process for both of you? Are you his imprint?" I asked, not sure if that was too personal a question, but I was dying to know if it was a quirk of imprinting.

"I am not, but the reason I age with him is because I'm a marked mate," she swept her hair aside to show me the two crescent-shaped marks where her neck and shoulder met.

"_He bit you?_" I was horrified, seething with anger. I felt terrible for even considering biting Bella the other day, but to know a wolf had lost control and scarred his mate in such a way was unforgivab-

"No, Jacob," she cut off my internal rant in response to the parade of emotions playing across my face, "he marked me symbolically during an intimate moment. It is an instinctual action, but a leap of faith that is required on the part of the wolf and his mate**—**putting their trust in the spirits not to separate them. Marking has drawbacks. It must be discussed between mates before it is done because it renders the mates fertile only to one another. The woman will never bear children for anyone other than her mate. The wolf will never impregnate another woman other than _his_ mate. It causes no pain. It's actually very … " she blushed like Bella to the roots of her hair, " … very enjoyable for the mated couple."

I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. I really didn't want to know these things about Quil's gran, "Umm … so the marking is significant? It's an alternative to imprinting for mates who don't imprint? It slows down your aging, too, or matches yours up with his or something?"

"Yes, but we'll have to leave it at that for now. My Quil will have to reveal the rest of the real details about imprinting. I'm under Alpha orders to leave those explanations to Quil," she answered, but I wasn't sure which question she was answering 'yes' to; one or all of them? Then her words sank in.

"Alpha orders? Sam knows about this?" The thought that Sam had kept this important information about an alternative to imprinting filled me with rage again. My hands shook.

Molly laid her hand over mine and the tremors ceased, "Sam is not the Alpha who issued these orders."

Oh, so … "My great-granddad?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"What are those orders?"

She sighed. She looked like she was trying to think of a way around the orders to explain them without breaking them, "We have orders to give the greatest pack secrets only to the next true Alpha and his claimed mate after he ascends to Alpha."

"So Sam knows these secrets already?"

"He does not."

"I don't understand," and I was getting sick of being talked in fucking circles.

Then she dropped the bomb on me, "You know Sam is not the true Alpha. You are. We can only reveal the former pack's secrets to you if you take your rightful place as the next hereditary Alpha."

My jaw dropped at the sudden realization that more important information was be being kept from the pack because of my refusal to step up, "Shit."

"Language," she admonished me**,** future Alpha status be damned.

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled.

We sat in unsettled silence for a few minutes while I gathered my thoughts.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Jacob. You're not ready yet."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. You will know when it is time. You'll follow your instincts. Don't doubt them."

"Even if they're telling me to bite the holy fuck out of Bella's throat and render her sterile to other men?"

"Yes."

I gaped at her, shocked. All I could do was blink.

"I'll give you a minute," she said with a smirk as she sat back in her chair, cupping her glass between her hands. "I'd like to remind you to watch your mouth while you're at it, too."

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled, shaking out the mental kinks as I tried to process everything I'd been told so far while she waited silently for me to catch up.

"Okay ... okay, so can we backtrack a bit?" I asked, "Charlie knows about the wolves and there are things I need to know about Charlie and Bella?"

"Yes, there are things you need to know about my family specifically, Jacob. These are the things I'm allowed to tell you now. You've heard the stories before about how outraged people were when Quil and I married?"

"Yeah, people were still pretty ignorant and racist back then, I guess."

"Don't fool yourself, Jacob. People are still ignorant and racist now," she snapped, then lowered her eyes in apology. "Forgive me. It's still a sore spot. I spent many years keeping a low profile on the reservation and barely showing my face in Forks at all, so much so that even my own niece thinks I'm dead."

I started to interrupt, but she cut me off, "No, she can't know yet. It isn't time."

I huffed, but kept quiet while she continued, "Have you ever considered why my Quil married outside the tribe?"

"You're his imprint. The spirits chose you. It's not for us the question why-"

"Bullshit. I'm _not_ his imprint, Jacob Black. Weren't you listening?" she cut me off, frustrated.

I raised my eyebrows at her language and tried to keep the mocking smirk off my face.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look. My house, my rules, and I'm an adult. I'll swear a blue streak if I want to," she griped. She waved her hands, "Ignore the imprint nonsense for a moment and ask yourself 'why was Quil drawn to a no name, pale face girl from Forks instead of a pedigreed, blue blood native girl from an old Quileute family?'"

I thought it over and offered the only suggestion I could come up with, "You brought something to the gene pool that the tribe was lacking at the time?"

She nodded.

"Something important?" I hedged.

She nodded again.

"Something that is passed down in your family?" I calculated the possibilities and offered another wild guess, "Something that Charlie and Bella inherited, too?"

"Bella, more so than Charlie, but, yes," she answered.

"There are a lot of things about Bella that make her different from other humans, even different from the imprints," I reasoned. "She's not afraid of werewolves. The imprints love the warrior, but keep a healthy distance from their wolf because of what happened to Emily. Bella loves my wolf, in fact, and sometimes inexplicably speaks Quileute to him even though she doesn't understand more than a dozen or so words in the entire language. She dated a vampire. She said the Cullens told her she smelled better than most humans and Deadward told her she smelled so good, she was like his own personal brand of heroine, the creeper. She talks in her sleep, has dreams that tell her things or help her figure things out. That's how she figured out the secret about the vampires and the pack-"

"These dreams are already manifesting? You know this for a fact?" Molly jumped on that piece of information with a tone of awed disbelief.

"Yeah, they scare her sometimes, so she tells me when I lay down with her to help her get back to sleep. She worries less about me when she tells me, so I can worry with her. I don't worry, though. I'm just more careful," I replied apologetically.

She nodded, but didn't elaborate on her interest in Bella's dreams.

I picked up where I left off, "Umm … so she has the dreams. She's intuitive in a way that most humans aren't. She knows when she's being watched even if she doesn't hear a sound. She said the mind-reading leech complained that he couldn't hear her thoughts and she was able to fight off the effects of the empathic bloodsucker. It was difficult, but she did it when he tried to relax her and put her to sleep. The psychic one couldn't always accurately predict her future; there were holes in Bella's future where the leech was blinded. Bella thinks it was because there were the times when she didn't want the psychic to be able to see her future, when she wanted to keep it a secret, like she was blocking her. Bella's like, leech-resistant or something."

It was Molly's turn to sit and stare with her mouth hanging open, "You're saying this is all fact? It has happened already? She's got an immunity to supernatural creatures?"

"I guess so. Doesn't stop the leeches from thinking she's delicious. It's scary. It's like they know she's immune to supernatural influences and it makes her more irresistible to them."

I stopped, realizing what I'd just said, "That's why they're all after her, isn't it? The thing she gets from you? The immunity? If she was turned-" my arms shook as I fought back the urge to phase at the thought of a leech biting my Bella, "If she was turned, she'd be some kind of super vampire, immune to the gifts of other vamps, no matter how gifted they are?"

Molly nodded, the sad smile on her face again, "It's both blessing and curse. Your brothers complain bitterly about protecting her**—**the leech lover, but what they don't know is that she's one of you. Bella, Charlie, and I may not look it, but we're all part-Quileute."

"But how? Does Bella know?"

"She knows she has a distant Quileute relative, besides me, but she thinks I'm only a member of the tribe because I married into it."

"Which family are you descended from?" I asked, thinking it had to be a name that had long since died out as the tribe's membership shrank.

"One of the oldest; we are direct descendants of the oldest daughter of Taha Aki and his third wife, Nayeli. Hach'libiti is the daughter from which our line came."

"You know the Third Wife's name?"

"I know many things your father does not, Jacob Black."

"The Third Wife was literally named 'Beloved' and her daughter was … " I racked my brains, trying to draw the translation from memory, "'Great Strength'?"

"Something like that," she agreed.

"Why hasn't this been passed down through the generations like the story of the wolves and the cold ones?"

"You remember the story of the origin of the spirit wolves?"

I nodded.

"You remember then that the practice of spirit walking was strictly forbidden after the incident that befell Taha Aki?"

"Yes, spirit walking was deemed too dangerous a practice for the warriors. The shared mind and body of the phase was safer for the warriors and for the tribe so that the body of a strong warrior could not be inhabited by the mind of a weaker or unworthy man."

"Yes, that's true, but the practice of spirit walking wasn't given up altogether and those who could do it didn't die out. What I mean is that the practice wasn't lost, Jacob. It was cultivated and developed through the generations by a small, but dedicated group of women who all carried the spirit walking gene, until the female descendants of Hach'libiti had harnessed the spiritual magic of the gift and broadened their gifts to span a wide range of abilities. They had to keep it a secret even within the tribe. Over the millennia, they became known as the Wolf Riders because they had a special affinity with the pack and the wolves in particular. Many of them became marked mates so their gifts would also strengthen the next generation of wolves. They aided the pack when they could without being found out. Spirit walking was still strictly forbidden, even if it had developed into many other strengths that benefitted the tribe."

"How did they harness and strengthen their gifts?" I wondered. If they could do that, the pack might be able to do the same to make our wolves stronger.

Molly cleared her throat delicately, "Ahem. They … Jacob, would you agree that life is the most mysterious and magical thing in the inverse?"

I nodded cautiously.

"And the making of a life one of the most sacred?"

That rang a dim bell, so I nodded again.

"There's a reason why life is so revered by our tribe. Creating a life requires the most sacred and powerful magic of all; the union of a man and a woman."

"You're talking about sex," I blurted out, then clamped a hand over my big mouth as my eyes widened in shock. I just said 'sex' in front of Quil's gran.

She tried to hide her amusement.

She failed.

When she stopped laughing , she explained, "The Wolf Riders intermarried with the pack. The children of the wolves were stronger and healthier, but it was the energy created by the man and woman making those children that made them stronger still."

And … she lost me.

She huffed in annoyance, "It wasn't passing on just the genes that made the next generation of wolves and wolf riders stronger. It was the sex _itself_. The quality, the frequency, the sacred intent poured into the act by the mates acted as a kind of generator to build up more power. There's a reason all the members of the pack are so horny, dear. It's not just because they're all teenagers when they phase. They're driven to build up a surplus of strength and power for the wolves and wolf riders."

What. The. Fuck.

Seriously? Fucking like bunnies would make us stronger?

"Your Bella is a wolf rider, too. She has a very rare combination of several of the spirit walker gifts. She is easily the strongest and most powerful wolf rider born since the practice went underground two millennia ago."

"How do you know that?!" I gasped.

"The gifts you say she's displaying are only the beginning. She hasn't even gone through the tribulation yet."

"What's the tribulation?" I didn't like the sound of that.

Molly looked like she was choosing her next words carefully, "Several events must happen before she can gain control of her gifts, before they will begin to adapt for her to use them actively rather than passively. They are a series of natural and supernatural events**—**supernatural intercession in the course of her everyday normal human life. It's the price. That much magic and power doesn't come without a price. This is the price we must pay to keep the line of wolf riders alive. We call it the tribulation because it can be painful or difficult. Every wolf rider's tribulation is a little different. I'm sorry, I can't tell you what the events are, but I can warn you about something else. It's the main reason that I brought you here today.

"Bella is, as far as we know, the last remaining wolf rider of child-bearing age to carry the active gene. Young Quil is a carrier of the passive gene. There are no guarantees that he can pass it on to his own daughters some day. It is essential that Bella find a wolf mate with whom she can carry on the line or it will die out with her. My sister and I did our best to carry on, but I wasn't able to give my Quil any surviving daughters and my sister had only one surviving child, Charlie.

"There is more. The raw magic that Bella is capable of harnessing and using to protect humans is limited only by the power she can build. You are an Alpha, or will be, and that makes for a very potent lover, but Bella may need even _more_ because of her potential. We honestly don't know. She may crave the physical release of sacred intercourse with others besides yourself even before the tribulation. She cannot be told why it's happening until after the tribulation begins, in much the same way that you couldn't be told before phasing. Your fear could have prevented the phase if you knew it was coming.

"I brought you here to explain to you that her insatiability, her desperate need for more than one lover, is not a sign that she is not your mate or that she is being unfaithful to you. She will _need_ other lovers to tap into her full potential if she is to endure the tribulation. Her tribulation will be greater because her potential is greater. It will be your job to guard her against those who would judge her unfairly, to support her without question, and to find a way to coexist peacefully with other lovers that she may take and bear children for in addition to those that she bears for you if you do not claim her with your mark."

Hold the fucking phone. Pale face magical granny say what?

"I'm, I'm, uh … let me get this straight, my Bella is going to need to take other lovers in addition to me for the purposes of magical sex and the reason I probably didn't imprint on her is because I need to accept these other lovers and actually encourage her to have sex with other men?"

"Umm … yes and no," Molly answered apologetically.

"Explain," I demanded.

"Not just human men, but possibly one or more of your own pack mates and since your pack is comprised of both men and a woman … " she insinuated as she blushed again.

"Wha … ? Oh. _Oh._" Bella was going to … oh, well then. One of my brothers and maybe my pack sister, too? Maybe this wolf rider thing wasn't _all_ bad news. I grinned, mulling over the possibility of having magical sex with two hot women.

Molly smacked me.

"Ouch!"

"It's spiritual, sacred intercourse, Jacob! Not girl-on-girl porn!"

"Right. Sacred, spiritual," I affirmed with a nod before I got distracted again, murmuring, "Two girls, four breasts-"

"Jacob… "

"Shutting up now."

_✫.¸¸ ._ _✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫_

_If you enjoyed these sneak peeks of a future project, you'll love my other current works in progress, the short story, Snowed In (for mature audiences-only) and my two-shot, Yours, Mine, Ours (also for mature audiences-only). Both can be found on Tricky Raven. (Also now available on FFn.)_

_Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who voted for me in the **Fandom Choice Awards**! I took **First Place** in the **Best Breakthrough Author: Wolfpack** category for Yours, Mine, Ours! I also contributed several fic reviews to the live results show last night; one for Dragonfly76's crack fic Zombie Apocalypse 101, and another for FarrahB's The Alpha Next Door. Both of them tickle my funny bone in that just-the-right/that's-not-right way and I am one tough nut to crack when it comes to humor in fan fic!_

_~ChrissiHR_


	5. DaddysGirlNoMore, JacobBella

**A/N: **_This was my entry for Tricky Raven's anonymous Valentine's Day contest, Book of Love, and it's my Valentine to all of you, my wonderful, patient readers! _

_Oh, and I tied for first place! Thank you to everyone who read all the wonderful stories and voted! Second place was a tie, too! There were some really wonderful stories in the contest! You can check them out by visiting the main page on Tricky Raven and clicking the link to the Book of Love group page._

_I know many of you are waiting for an update on my deliciously smutty short story, Snowed In. I've had a little writer's block lately but I am working on it! Finished the first of several lemons for Part V this week, so it is coming along, just a bit slower than I'm accustomed to._

* * *

><p><strong>Title<strong>: Daddy's Girl No More

**Pairing**: Michael Newton/Bella Swan/Jacob Black

**Rating**: T/PG-13

**Genre**: Historical Romance/Angst

**Prompt**: "My Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels (and a little of "I Will Follow Him" by Little Peggy March)

**Disclaimer:**_All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Theme: Young Love, Word Count: 4727_

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><p><em>He's been gone for such a long time, <em>

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_Now he's back and things'll be fine, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_You're gonna be sorry you were ever born, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_Cause he's kinda big and he's awful strong,_

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

~"My Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels~

* * *

><p><span><strong>Daddy's Girl No More<strong>

Bella finished straightening her ponytail and ran her hands down the front of her teal blue boatneck sweater. She'd paired it with a teal and grey-striped circle skirt for the Dip and Dance Michael was taking her to at the school that night. It had been so long since she'd seen her boyfriend. She hoped he liked this shade of blue on her. He'd always loved her in blue.

She tapped her foot to the melodious voice of Bobby Darin on the radio crooning one of her favorites, "Beyond the Sea". She was tempted to sing along. Knowing she'd be seeing her sweetheart soon made her heart feel light, but she was nervous about the evening and whether the two of them could pull this off. She couldn't bear to separated from him any longer and she knew the suffering for him was twice as terrible, compounded by worry such as it was.

Her father had the best of intentions, she knew, but he'd gone about this all the wrong way. Now, he was escalating the situation by forcing her to spend time with that handsy jerk, Michael Newton, on top of everything else. Charlie thought so highly of the Newtons, with Mr. Newton owning one of the most prosperous businesses in town and Mrs. Newton, that gossipy old hag, on every committee, club, and ladies auxiliary in the county.

Her father craved that kind of normalcy for her own sake, but they would never be the Newtons. They were just them, the Swans, just the two of them since Bella was a baby and her mother had taken off with her younger lover, that no-account Phil Dwyer. 'A baseball player!' Charlie had railed. He'd sworn he'd never listen to another game on the radio, but Bella caught him at it sometimes anyway.

Now he was foisting her off on that no-good Newton boy all the time and it made Bella seethe. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to make her forget her love, her sweetheart; pushing her at Michael constantly, hoping she'd see something in the boy he'd chosen for her—the one he found _respectable_. Well, it would never happen. She would make certain of that.

She took a bracing breath and reminded herself that Michael was her ticket out of this house and out from under the ever watchful eyes of her father. Whatever it took to be with her sweetheart, she would do. She turned around and looked over the items stacked in neat piles on her bed. She was only taking a week's worth of basics for now. She needed to travel light. It was going to be difficult as it was trying to get the overlarge satchel out of the house past her father. In truth, if she were just going to the Dip and Dance, she wouldn't need more than what she was wearing and a swimsuit with a towel in a beach tote if she and Michael decided to take a dip in the school pool with some of the others during the dance to cool off.

Bella had no intention of wasting precious space on a swimsuit, though. She packed sturdy, serviceable clothes and shoes and one good dress. If everything went according to plan, she would probably need that dress sooner rather than later. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth at the thought of the occasion for which she intended the pretty robin's egg blue dress. She shook her head and reminded herself this was no time for wool-gathering. She needed her wits about her if she was to get through the night.

She finished packing the small satchel, arranging things so it looked like she just had a jacket on top of her swimming things in the bag in case she got chilly later.

Bag packed, she looked around her room, wondering if there was anything else she should take just in case she couldn't return for a long while. There were two small, silver-framed photos on her nightstand that caught her eye; one of she and her father at her Sweet Sixteen party, and one of she and her sweetheart, playing together on First Beach when they were little. Her mother had taken that picture. She kept it turned away from the door, so her father wouldn't notice it and take it away. She snatched it off the table and tucked it safely into her bag between two blouses.

She heard the sound of Michael's noisy second-hand convertible rumble up the street towards her house and rolled her eyes.

Honestly, who drives a convertible in Washington where it rains 350 days a year? That boy didn't have the sense of a peahen.

Still, he was providing an excellent ruse to cover her escape. She had to be grateful for that.

She snatched up the sheer pewter grey scarf on her dressing table and tied it around the base of her ponytail to keep the short ends from coming loose later during her getaway.

At the brisk knock on the front door, she squared her shoulders, assuming a false, but bright smile and went to meet her destiny.

* * *

><p>Charlie and Michael were chatting amiably in the living room when she descended the stairs carefully in her well-loved black and white saddle shoes. As a born-clumsy girl, Bella knew well she must take her time tonight or risk ruining her plans if she became injured before <em>He<em> arrived.

Her father looked on with pride, complimenting her smoothly, "You look lovely, tonight, Bella Marie, a real credit to your Grandmother Swan."

"Thank you, Daddy," she replied with forced cheerfulness and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Thankfully, Charlie wasn't the type to look much below the surface unless he had a good reason to. He may have been the Chief of Police, but he tended to trust a bit too easily, a trait that frequently came back to haunt him—Bella's mother being the best case in point.

Michael was all but bouncing in place, an eager golden retriever barely held back by his collar, just waiting his turn to slobber all over her, "Evening, Bella! All ready to go then?" He pointed to her bag and Charlie looked at it suspiciously.

Michael caught his look and saved her from having to stutter through a lie, "Never worry, Chief Swan! I'll keep a keen eye on her tonight in the pool. No mishaps, I promise!"

"Pool?" Charlie asked.

Bella dropped her eyes demurely and offered the simplest explanation she could that wouldn't force her to tell an outright lie to her father, "It's a Dip and Dance, Daddy. I can change when I get there. I have a jacket for later as well, in case I'm a bit damp when we head out after." She failed to mention which _we_ she was referring to, but otherwise, she thought she did a bang up job of not actually lying.

Charlie's mustache twitched slightly, as if he were annoyed that she'd failed to mention she was going out in a bathing suit that barely covered more than her underthings, but, in the end, he let it go for fear of being the only father in town who hadn't let his daughter go to the Dip and Dance. Surely if the school was sponsoring it, it must be on the up and up, plenty of chaperones and all, so he relented, "Very well. Be sure to have her home no later than ten o'clock, Michael."

Michael's face blanched, "Umm, but sir, there's going to be a bonfire after. Some of us were going to go down to First Beach-"

"No! I don't want my Bella anywhere near La Push. You hear me, boy?"

Michael gulped and tried to swallow past the terror that had lodged in his throat, "Y-y-yes, s-sir! We'll come straight home, right after the dance."

"See that you do," he said, then called out to her, holding an arm out, "Bella?"

She knew what was expected of her, even if it was just for show for Michael's sake. (The Newtons were all terrible gossips.) She moved under her father's arm and wrapped her hands lightly around his waist, giving him what she knew could be the very last hug they ever shared. She tried to mean it, but she felt hollow inside—worried for her sweetheart, worried about the perilous situation she now found herself in. She desperately wanted to love her father like she once had, but his attitude about the current state of affairs had become untenable and he'd forced her to choose.

Choose, she had. Her boyfriend was coming back for her. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if that was what he asked.

* * *

><p>Bella thought she would go mad if she had to slap Michael Newton's hands away from her rear one more time before the night was over. They'd been at the dance for more than an hour and her sweetheart was nowhere to be seen. She was beginning to worry, but she couldn't let her guard down or become lax or less vigilant about keeping Michael at bay. She suspected someone had spiked the punch. He was more determined than ever to grab her wherever he could. She swore he'd grown six spare arms in the hour and a half since he picked her up at home, all of them intent on one goal—grabbing her derriere.<p>

She kept him firmly at arms' length to avoid his slobbering mouth, but she couldn't do much about his wandering hands without letting go, which would only give him room to get closer. She wriggled uncomfortably away from one wandering hand, barking a sharp reprimand that had little effect.

She was getting desperate, almost on the verge of slapping the groping lecher when she felt a familiar searing warmth next to her hand on Michael's shoulder. She peered around his big, bucket-head into the amused and somehow equally annoyed eyes of Leah Clearwater.

"Oh, thank goodness," she whispered, her shoulders sagging in relief.

Leah smirked and asked in a put-on simpering voice for Michael's benefit, "May I cut in?"

Bella nodded enthusiastically, stepping back to allow the black-clad, native bombshell to take her place. Leah was stunning in the raven's black—an off-the shoulder sweater that was tighter than anything Bella had ever dared to wear in public _or_ private, a slim, satin pencil skirt that hugged her generous curves, and a pair of skyscraper black heels in shiny patent leather. Her hair was pinned with a red silk flower and swept up in a sleek coiffure that bared much of her exquisite caramel shoulders and invited men to their doom.

Leah leaned in close for Bella's sake and whispered, "Rear hallway, by the door to the girls' locker room. Go _directly_ through the girls' locker room. I just checked it and it's clear. He will be waiting for you at the far door. Don't slow down and don't let anyone waylay you. Go." She gave her a firm shove in the direction of the locker room door on the gym side.

"Thank you, Leah," she breathed.

Bella wasted no time, scurrying off the dance floor, avoiding the calls from her friends, asking what was her hurry. She ducked into the locker room, hustling to the far end. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed and ran hard into something pillowy soft and perfumed for her trouble anyway.

"Oof!"

"Ugh! What is your _problem_, Swan?! Watch where you're going!" Lauren huffed indignantly, straightening her too-tight blouse.

Jessica stood at her side, arms crossed over her chest, nodding her head in agreement, her ponytail bobbing crazily, sending the tails of her scarf swaying wildly, "Yeah, _Swan_. What? You decided you're so clumsy you can't even be bothered to _look_ where you're walking anymore? It's just inevitable that you'll fall on your face no matter what, I suppose. Who cares who you take down with you?"

"Oh, for pete's sake! It was an accident. I'm terribly sorry. Didn't mean it," Bella snapped in a mocking voice. "Please excuse me. I have someone else I need to hurry off and _maim_ with malicious intent."

Lauren and Jessica were shocked speechless by the dripping sarcasm in Bella's tone. Neither had ever heard her speak so sharply to a classmate, much less stand up for herself. They stepped aside under the threat of her lethal gaze.

Bella rushed past them to the rear locker room door, pushing it open carefully and looking about for her savior. The hallway was dark and she cringed back, unsure whether to proceed.

Just as she took a cautious step in retreat, two large hands reached out from the darkness to her left.

Two blazing hot hands.

She sighed in relief, finally able to really breathe for the first time in days.

"Jacob," she whispered, leaning into the reassuring succor of his embrace. The soft leather of his jacket and the comfortably-worn cotton of his black T-shirt made her feel like she'd finally come _home_. "Thank goodness. I was so worried."

"So was I, honey," he murmured, tightening his hold, brushing his lips across her temple as he ran soothing hands up and down her back. She was trembling and he was upset that he hadn't been there every moment that she'd needed him. He felt it, through the imprint bond. His father, also imprinted, had tried to warn him how hard any kind of separation could be. He finally understood what was really at stake.

He lowered his head to her shoulder and felt bare skin. Opening his eyes, he took in her ensemble, his hungry gaze lingering momentarily on the pronounced curves beneath her thin sweater, "You look beautiful, as always, Bells. You know how I love it when you wear blue. It makes you look even more fair—if that's possible."

"I wore it for you," she breathed, standing on her tip-toes to brush her petal-soft lips over his. She brought a tiny, fluttering hand up self-consciously to pluck at the wide neckline of her sweater, feeling warm and a little wild this close to her Jacob. The sweater bared her neck and throat almost to the curve of each shoulder. It really was quite daring for her.

"I can tell. You know what it does to me—the sight of your beautiful neck and shoulders. The wolf, too," he growled, nipping at the long ivory column of her throat.

She tipped her head in submission, allowing him another moment as she whimpered, "Your wolf, too?"

"Always, my Bells. The wolf loves every part of you, but especially…" his fingers traversed the bared expanse of smooth, pale flesh above her sweater, caressing her delicate collar bones with his heated fingertips, raising goosebumps that raced across her shoulders, "...your beautiful, kissable throat." His hot breath billowed over her chilled skin as he pressed his plump, dusky lips to her pulse there.

She shivered in anticipation.

"It's not safe here, Bells. Too many people," he reminded her in a murmur, his hot breath tickling her ear as he scanned the hallway and the locker room beyond, his eyes never ceasing their search for the evil that lurked in dark corners and down shadowy hallways.

"How- how do you know it's not safe?" she stuttered uncertainly, her ardor cooling as she clutched him tighter and tucked her head into his warm, solid chest.

"The young girl, Claire, the one Quil imprinted on from the Makah rez? Her parents were found dead earlier today. Claire was out with Emily and didn't return before they were found by a neighbor, thank the spirits. We think the coven has found our weakness. We think they're going after the imprints. Bella… " his voice trailed off and he pulled her back, biting his lip and looking at her hesitantly. "You're not safe here. I did what I had to do. I'm sorry it took me so long. You were being watched the entire time, I swear, but I had to wait for official approval from council. Even though you're an imprint and eighteen, I'm only sixteen. I had to be sure your place on the rez was secured. They said it _would_ be if-"

He stopped, his arms tightening unconsciously around her.

"If…?" she looked at him expectantly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached into his pocket, pulling out something small that fit in the palm of his hand—a tiny black box. "...if you agree to marry me—in a Quileute unity ceremony. We can do the legal deal later, but you have to marry me to reside on the rez." He cleared his throat, "Tonight."

"Oh … Jacob." Her eyes shined with unshed tears as she realized she _would_ get to wear that pretty dress she packed sooner rather than later.

"You don't mind?" Jacob's eyes paced back and forth, watching carefully for her answer first in her beautiful cinnamon eyes, where she couldn't hide the truth of it.

"Mind?" a watery chuckle escaped as she smiled. "No, I don't mind. I'd been hoping… You still haven't asked me, though."

"I will when we get home. I want to do it on tribal land, Bells. Is that okay?"

She understood. The land was important, not just to Jacob's people, but to his family. She knew just where she would have him ask, too, "On the beach, that driftwood log? The one where you kissed me the first time?"

"You read my mind." His grin stretched across his face, ear to ear.

"Hardly, it's just where I'd want you to ask me, too. I love you, you know," she said, nuzzling his throat with her cold little nose. Then, in a whisper, "Take me home, Jacob. Please, take me home."

He couldn't resist such a pretty plea if he wanted to. He whispered in a choked voice, "I love you, too." He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, catching her bottom lip between his in a little nibble from his wolf as well.

"First, I'd like you to- to put the ring on. I'll ask you properly later. I just need to see my mother's ring on you, my mark. You understand?"

_His mother's ring, his mark…_ she thought wonderingly as she nodded and held out her hand, trembling a little as he slipped it over her finger.

"Perfect, like it was made for you." He kissed her knuckle above the ring as she sniffled happily, then asked, "You have a bag?"

He looked her over carefully, wondering if she would be able to ride his bike in that skirt. The only other time she'd been on it, she'd worn an old pair of bib dungarees that she kept at his house to wear when she was working in the shop with him. She'd have to ride in front of him this time, he decided, to keep her skirts out of the rear wheel, and she'd wear his leather jacket for extra protection.

"Yes. This Dip and Dance was especially serendipitous. My father didn't bat an eyelash when I left the house with a bag full of clothes—just a week's worth of the necessities for now. Enough to get by until we can come back for more or I can make some. That's fine, though. I don't need much. I left my bag in the front seat of Michael's car on the floor and left the door unlocked so I could retrieve it easily later."

"We've already taken too long. Leah will only be able to distract Newt for so long."

"Newton," she corrected him absently, running her hands up his firm biceps.

"I _know_ his name, Bells," he rolled his eyes and she smiled. She'd missed his unexpected sense of humor.

He pulled her by the hand down the rear corridor behind the gym toward the side doors, easily avoiding the revelers and a few indistinguishable couples snuggling in dim corners.

"Which one?" he asked when they reached the parking lot.

"The ivory convertible," she pointed it out.

"In Washington?" he snorted in derision, shaking his head in disgust.

"Don't get me started. He's positively ridiculous. It's a good thing I love you. I had to ride here in that- that _thing_**and** I had to fend off his eight wandering tentacles until Leah rescued me. I'll be glad to see the last of Michael Newton," she said as they hurried across the lot. She opened the front passenger door with a quiet snick of the latch and grabbed her bag, handing it off to Embry as he and Quil rolled up silently on a second motorcycle in neutral to keep their departure a secret until the very last second. Embry stashed her bag in the cobbled-together sidecar as Quil hopped out quietly on sneakered feet, his five-and-dime basketball shoes making no noise at all as he ran out back to retrieve Jacob's bike from the rear of the building where he'd coasted in earlier and parked.

Quil reappeared moments later, throwing down the kickstand and climbing off, handing the bike off to Jake, "Ready to go when you are, Boss."

Jake put one black-booted foot on the peg and held out a hand to Bella-

"Not so fast, boys," an authoritarian voice boomed.

The three boys turned their heads as one, their innate pack behavior more difficult to hide from humans when they perceived a threat to an imprint. Bella cringed. She knew the owner of that voice without looking and knew, also, that there was no way this could end well … for her father.

"Just where in Sam Hill do you think you're taking my daughter, Black?" Charlie asked as he hitched up his uniform pants, wiggling his holster a bit threateningly to terrify and intimidate. Too bad for him, werewolves weren't easily intimidated.

"Home, with me," Jacob answered, wrapping an arm around Bella protectively.

"If you think I'm just going to let you take off with daughter, boy, you have another think coming!" Charlie blustered.

"Daddy… " Bella tried to warn him off.

"Don't you '_Daddy'_ me you sneaky little tramp! You're no better than your no-good mother!"

Bella's gasp silenced him as she squared off, stomping her dainty little foot in outrage, "_Tramp?!_ Is _that_ what you think of me? I am _not_ Mama, Daddy! _You_ drove me to this!"

His eyes burned in righteous indignation and he clenched his fists, refusing to take the blame for trying to protect her, to try to keep history from repeating itself.

"And yet, here you are anyway," he jabbed a finger in her direction, "just like her, sneaking off like a thief in the night with some, some-" he waved a hand in the air in wild circles, trying to come up with a word to encompass everything he despised and feared about Jacob Black.

"What, Daddy? What is he that's so terrible?" she demanded, her voice hitching as she choked back her tears.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into here Bella-"

Jacob was seething. "You and I both know that kid was dead long before I ever got near him, thanks to another kind of monster altogether. All I did was keep the demon that possessed his bloodless corpse from mutilating and killing more helpless kids," Jacob hissed low, but plenty loud enough for Charlie's human ears.

"Yeah? Well, from now on you just, just … keep it on the rez, like you're supposed to!" Charlie shouted, angered that Bella wasn't surprised by the boy's revelation and realizing that she must have known all along just what these _boys_ really were under the light of the full moon.

"Yeah? And if I do? You gonna kill the next one by yourself, _Chief_? If that's your plan, you might as well say goodbye to Bells one last time, right here and now."

"She's not going with you!" Charlie's face purpled with rage, knowing what it would mean if she left. The same had happened to his Aunt Molly when Charlie was a boy—just went out to La Push one weekend for a clam dig on the beach and never came home. The family never once spoke of her again after that, but Charlie knew. The one boy standing with Jacob—young Quil—was Charlie's own second cousin.

"Well, she can't stay _here_. _You_ can't protect her. She'd be dead within the week, and the pack would fold under the devastation of their Alpha's lost mate. This is how it _has_ to be," Jacob stated with finality.

"She's meant for better-"

"Daddy!" Bella spoke sharply. "How _dare_ you?! You don't get to decide what's best for me! Don't you do this. Don't you make me choose, because it'll be him. It's always been him. I will follow him to the ends of the earth, Daddy. This is meant to be. The spirits _chose_ me for him. He is my destiny." She wrapped her arms around Jacob, murmuring quietly, "We should go. It's not any safer here than it was earlier, inside. You can lock down the rez. Forks is little better than a hunting ground for those demons now."

"Alpha's mate," Jacob muttered the words with a hint of pride, but so quietly against her temple, she could hardly make them out. She smiled, realizing what he meant by his proud words—she was already putting her tribe's needs first, and thereby, her mate's.

Charlie listened to the cryptic and very grown up exchange between his daughter and the b- _man_ in whose arms she stood for protection. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

Jacob took that as a sign that it was time to go. He lifted Bella up onto the seat of the bike, shielding her from view as she neatly rearranged her skirts to conceal her legs. He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She slid her arms into the sleeves as Jacob swung a leg over the seat behind her. He tucked the trailing hem of her skirts in under his legs, tugging her backwards to fit neatly against his chest, within the sheltering circle of his arms.

"I've got you, but hold on tight, okay?" he warned her, placing her hands inside his on the handlebars.

Charlie moved, making one last-ditch effort to stop them, but Quil barred his way, his big, beefy arms held wide to warn him off, "Chief… _cousin_. Don't do this. You'll drive her away forever."

Jacob kick-started the bike, Embry doing the same as Quil retreated and slid into the sidecar, tucking Bella's bag between his feet securely.

"Jacob!" Charlie shouted desperately over the roar of the bikes.

Jacob ticked up one eyebrow and jerked his chin in response.

"You take care of my girl, you hear?!"

"I always do!" he yelled back, "but she's not _your_ girl anymore!" He clasped Bella's hand in his, raising it to show Charlie his mother's ring on her third finger. "She's mine now!"

Bella blushed to the roots of her hair as Embry and Quil hooted and hollered their congratulations.

Charlie's eyes widened in dismay and he heaved a mournful sob of regret as he watched Jacob Black ride off down Main Street with his baby girl, cocooned in the strong, capable arms of her sweetheart, the Alpha of La Push.

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><p><em>I have some ideas for a follow-up to turn this into a two-shot or maybe a short story eventually, if you guys are interested in it. Let me know in the comments, I guess, and I'll make a decision from there. Thanks for reading!<em>


	6. Chemistry, JacobBella

_**Genre: Romance/Mystery**_

_**Rating: M**_

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><p><em>Don't forget to check out my interview with Dontcallmeleelee on her blog, Dontcallmeleelee's Mess next Sunday on her blog, too! She makes many of my beautiful fic and chapter banners!<em>

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><p><strong><em>Preview from Chemistry:<em>**

She was about to lean out to hiss to him that the coast was clear when he stepped swiftly into the open doorway from her left, right up into her personal space.

"Shit!" she smacked at him, stumbling back. "Why do you have to be such a fucking creeper?"

"Mmm … Is this what _you're_ wearing today?" he asked, a low hum of appreciation rumbling deep in his throat as he fingered the silky material of the bright pink robe.

Forgetting herself for a moment, she angled unconsciously into his touch, practically purring when he slipped his hands inside the lapels and ran them down the gentle curves from breast to hip beneath her robe, "Oh, god, babe. I can't stand it. What is this?"

"Chemistry," he barked, smothering a laugh, dipping his chin to rub the stubble over her bare shoulder as the robe slipped down another inch.

Moaning, she shook with desire in his arms, the pull was so strong, "If you keep touching me like that-"

"We'll both lose our heads," he whispered, his lips a hair's breadth from hers, their foreheads touching in the only show of intimacy they would allow themselves before the diplomas were handed out later that day.

He had just enough willpower to pull back, apologizing, "I'm sorry. Coming here beforehand was a mistake. We-" he cut himself off, swearing. "This is what we agreed to—for both our sakes. I'll-" he sighed reluctantly, whispering, "I'll see you this afternoon."

She grasped just the tips of his fingers as he crossed the threshold in a silent, if all-too-brief farewell. He squeezed them in return and slipped through the door, quietly pulling it to behind him.

Just before he closed it—his eyes trained on the ground to avoid further temptation—he murmured, glancing up at her from beneath lowered lashes, "You look beautiful today. You always do."

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><p><strong><em>You can find this one-shot already posted under its own title on my profile. I opted to post it as a stand-alone due to the extreme M rating for this one.<em>**


	7. Love Potion 9, EmbryBella

I've got another little birthday surprise for meliz875! (Have you checked out her Embry/Leah fic, "Hardest of Hearts", yet?)

This one is a two-shot, so it's got it's own group on Tricky Raven and will be a stand-alone fic here on FFn, but as a shorty, it falls under my omnibus, too, so I thought I'd post a preview here as a teaser for what's coming up this weekend. First update should be posted March 1st or 2nd, (this weekend!). It's rated M. You know why. ;)

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><p>Preview:<p>

One would think with all the available shapeshifter manpower that someone other than Bella would have been a better choice for the delicate and stealthy job of swiping Old Quil's 'shine. The problem was that Bella was the only one who knew where he hid his stash in the shed. The others may have been able to sniff it out, but Bella was the only one who knew how to open the hidden compartment without destroying the door and giving away that it had been breached by the world's unstealthiest group of shapeshifting burglars and their crafty human ring-leader.

The one time, weeks earlier, that Bella had 'accidentally stumbled' across Old Quil bottling his secret recipe in the shed, he had mistakenly assumed that she was the good girl he'd never have to worry about and so, hadn't bothered to hide what he was doing while he answered her innocuous questions about some lesser known tribal legends.

Little did he know, she was merely a trojan horse—the pack's unassuming and unlikely advance scout.

As it turned out, Old Quil didn't know his great-niece quite as well as he thought. She was more like Quil the Younger than anyone suspected.

Because, when it came right down to it, Bella could lie. She'd learned all kinds of new skills while she was away at school.

_Hell, thieving the moonshine had been her idea in the first place.__  
><em>

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><p>If this preview caught your interest, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the two-shot on my profile this weekend and check out my upcoming interview with Dontcallmeleelee on her blog, Dontcallmeleelee's Mess: .com this Sunday! She makes quite a few of my fic and chapter banners these days and they're all gorgeous!<p>

Enjoy!

~ChrissiHR


	8. Together, EmbryBella

For meliz875 ;)

_(For a picture prompt on Tricky Raven - pic is viewable in my wolfpack omnibus on TR.)_

- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

Together

- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

"You can do it," he whispered as he curled forward, wrapping his body around the sweaty, straining back of the exhausted woman in his arms.

She shook, her teeth chattering as a low sob escaped, clawing its way up to a wail.

_Pain with a purpose_, she reminded herself, pushing back, taking comfort from the solid wall of his chest at her back, the strong arms that held her so tenderly, the hands … his hands. Hands that had loved her gently, thoroughly, worshiping her from head to toe as they labored together months earlier, unknowingly creating the life she was laboring so hard now to bring into this world.

"One more push and we'll have the head," the tribal midwife patted her knee, "You're doing so good, sweetheart. Nearly there."

"You hear that, babe? Almost done. You're so strong. You can do this," he reached forward, running his hands over her distended abdomen.

His son.

She tensed, curling around her middle.

"Push, honey!" the midwife cheered, kneeling at their feet, her sure hands ready to help if it was needed.

Threading her fingers through his, she squeezed, bearing down, legs slick with sweat slipping on his thighs beneath her. She dug her toes into the soft mat on the floor.

So close.

She could feel it.

The finish line-holding her baby-was _right there_.

She could practically brush it with her fingertips, she was _that close_.

Pain-a moment of it-so searing, she thought she couldn't possibly survive it.

Then it was done, the pain subsiding. The shaking stopped.

"I have the head," she heard as if through a long tunnel. "One more push."

But no push was needed.

She took a deep breath and breathed her baby into the world.

And just like that, it was done.

A baby was born.

And so was a mother.

The midwife threw her head back, her delighted laughter peeling rich and silvery-cutting through the dark, stormy night as she turned the babe in her arms, swaddling it with a special white blanket, the one her parents had been wrapped in the day they were joined in marriage before the tribe.

She looked down on the baby and turned to face its parents.

"I hope you like surprises because this little one just proved three ultrasounds wrong. Meet your daughter."

"Do you have names picked out?" Sue, the attending nurse-practitioner, asked.

"Bryanna. Bryanna Call," Bella whispered, touching her finger gently to one tiny, pink cheek as Embry reached from behind her back to gather their daughter into their embrace.

"A daughter," he breathed, touching his lips reverently to the skin of her shoulder as they gazed on their little girl for the first time. Together.

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><p>Word Count: 500<p> 


	9. Coming Home, JacobBella

Rated: T

Pairing: Bella/Jacob

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

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><p><em>For meliz875. Happy birthmonth, hon!<br>_

_Based on a picture prompt that I found for a friend._

_I just couldn't resist fic-ing it myself, too. _

_(FFn readers can check out the pic in my Every Dog Has Its Day group on Tricky Raven. Link can be found on my profile)  
><em>

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><p>- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -<p>

Coming Home

- - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - - o - - -

"Make love to me, Jake? This one time?" Bella begged, tears in her eyes. Knowing her time was short, she wanted to make the most of every human moment that remained.

"We could have forever, honey. I'll protect you," he swore, punctuating each whispered promise in the dark with a kiss as he revealed every precious inch of warm pink skin.

They loved one another like it was the last time.

It would have to last for a lifetime.

In the morning, she was gone.

A note on his pillow told the truth. She would protect him and his tribe at any cost even if the price was her own life.

He heard she married the leech with tears in her eyes.

He wondered who those tears were for; him, the leech…

Or for herself.

When the time came, he thought he'd know.

Months passed with no word.

Jake existed, but didn't truly _live_.

Charlie had heard nothing from Bella since the second week of her honeymoon. The Cullens had disconnected every phone line. Every means of communication that Charlie once had with his daughter—gone.

Needless to say, it came as a shock when Jake came home from work one night to find a thick packet of paperwork had arrived in that day's mail, addressed to 'Bella Black'.

He thought it was some sick joke until he called Charlie to let him know Bella had mail delivered to the Black residence under a name not her own.

Charlie insisted Jacob open it. It could be a clue to Bella's whereabouts.

"Okay, okay, let me just-" Jake tapped the tip of a knife laying on the edge of the counter, flipping it neatly into his hand. He sliced open the envelope and shuffled through the contents, not comprehending what he was reading.

"I don't understand. It looks like some kind of legal mumbo-jumbo," Jake murmured, forehead creased in concentration.

"Just read some of it," Charlie insisted.

Jake read, "'This agreement serves as a full and final settlement of all matters of joint concern-'"

"What are the names on the paper, Jake?" Charlie sounded excited.

"Bella Marie Swan-Cullen and Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," Jake growled. "Why?"

"It's a final notice of a divorce settlement. She left Edwin," Charlie whispered.

"She left-" Jake's question was interrupted by the sound of a car door. "Hang on, Charlie. Someone's here."

He stretched the phone cord so he could stay on the line as he flipped on the inside light and swung the door open.

He gaped in shock, choking on air.

"Jake? Who's there?" Charlie demanded.

Standing on the stoop, wet hair plastered to her forehead, hands clasped over a belly round with a child enveloped in a cloud of his own Alpha scent, stood Bella Swan.

He reached out to brush a fingertip over her hand, checking for warmth.

"I'm sorry it took us so long," she whispered, placing his hand on her belly over their child.

"What?" he asked in wonder as a tiny foot kicked his palm.

"Coming home."


	10. The Siren, BellaPuckPack

**A/N:** _This is a sneak peek for a little series of flashfics that I'm working on. They were inspired by a writing prompt provided by my awesome pre-reader meliz875. (You can view the prompt on the group page on Tricky Raven when it's posted.) There will be seven swains, seven chapters, and each chapter will be exactly 1000 words because I wanted to challenge myself to write a short short story with true limitations. So, minus a few spare words for author's notes and such, the story itself will come in at exactly 7000 words—good, bad, or ugly—when we reach the end._

_A reminder: **The Tricky Raven 2nd Annual Silent Auction** is still underway and has not quite reached its goal yet. There is still time to donate and bid! You can bid on yours truly, of course, or another author who strikes your fancy, but do so quickly as time is running out!_

* * *

><p><strong><span>A Good Fellow<span>**

She ran, but as it always ended, the dream brought her up short in the meadow—never fast enough, never smart enough, never quite _enough_ to keep up, outwit, or anticipate her long-lost Edward.

Never good enough.

She sobbed in her dream and in the waking world as well—a lamenting cry of anguish heard by the wolven protector stationed outside her home—her longing for something unnameable.

"_Desire._"

Bella spun in the direction of the voice, her luxurious, mahogany hair whipping around her in a silky fan as she sought the origin of it in her dream.

"_To be the object of it, passion's fire_," he spoke again—a crooning lilt.

There, on the far side of the meadow stood a man, or perhaps a boy. He was of average stature with a slim build and wild auburn hair. As he approached, she noted the peaked tips of two pointed ears poking through the messy curls rioting around his face and neck.

Dressed simply, he wore a pair of leather leggings similar to what her Quileute friends wore for special ceremonies on the rez. The strap of a shabby satchel crossed his chest. In his bag, he tucked a small handmade pan flute—worn with years of use and obviously well-loved.

She demanded in a rush, "Who are you?"

"_Robin Goodfellow is my name-_"

"Puck!" she spat the moniker she knew.

He smirked and bowed, "_The very same._"

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><p><em><strong>EN:** I only have three chapters left to complete today. Not sure when I'll start posting, but I guarantee it will be complete before I post the first chapter. No more new works in progress until Snowed In or LP9 are complete, I promise. ~Chrissi_


	11. The Making of Me, EmbryLeah

Rated: T

Pairing: Mystery Reveal

Genre: Family/Comfort

Words: 526 or so, I think. I didn't keep the best count this time. I got close. I'm happy with the story. I'm leaving it as is.

Origin: Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Challenge, Prompt #3. (You can see the quote picture prompt in the Every Dog Has Its Day group on Tricky Raven.)

**A/N:** _I know, I know. I'm still on a weird baby kick. So sue me. My biological clock IS. TICKING. LIKE. THIS. (Even though my baby days are long over.) I wrote this one for Mel for her big birthmonth party (also because of ongoing TW sadness)._

**The Making of Me**

My parents told me the story one time. How they got together, what kept them together. I'm still not sure how much of it I believe.

Werewolves?

In Washington?

But here I am and here they are and they look way younger than all my friends' parents. There's no denying that.

Dad finally asked her out after Uncle Jake and Uncle Quil caught wind of his infatuation with Mom in the pack mind.

They asked if she was his imprint, but he never said. Told me it was none of their damn business. I had to laugh at that. Dad doesn't swear, but his brothers bring out all his bad habits.

Anyway, they went out one Friday night, Dad and Mom. It was awkward. He was painfully shy and worshipped the ground she walked on. She'd been burned before and serious relationships made her skittish, like a deer.

Nothing doe-like about Mom now.

Determined to make it work, they decided one more date wouldn't hurt, but decided to keep it casual. They went to a bonfire with the pack the next night.

Somebody—Mom won't say who and Dad just grins and smirks when Mom clams up—broke into Old Quil's stash and the pack got pretty wild.

Dad and Mom never made it home that night. When they retell the story, they only ever say 'at least we made it to the woods'.

The thought of it makes me shudder. Have I sat in that spot? Ugh.

Six weeks later, they'd gone on a few more dates and were becoming good friends. They decided to put on the brakes a little after the incident with the moonshine. Slow things down. No need to rush when you're young and you have your whole life ahead of you—futures to plan, right?

Right.

Sometimes, though, even the best laid plans go awry.

Six weeks and three days after their first date, Mom got sick. Really sick. Dad freaked out. He and Uncle Jake took her to the clinic. She puked non-stop for two days before they got it under control. Tribal doctors had to be let in on the secret because they couldn't be sure if it was due to the wolf gene. Dad was beside himself.

Eventually, the doctor got a handle on mom's illness, treating her symptoms and working to find a cause.

He entered the waiting room the day after Dad brought her to the clinic and asked the pack to clear out for an hour or so. He needed to speak to his patient alone and she was entitled to privacy. Jake gave the order and it was done.

An hour later, Dad stood at the front desk, cautiously optimistic as he asked the receptionist if he could see Mom. She waved him through.

Mom sat on the bed, tears streaking down her face. She looked up as Dad entered.

His breath caught, terrified that her news was bad.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, a tremulous smile lighting up her face.

Dad's smile lit up the world and Mom knew it would be okay.

That's my story. The making of me, Harry Call.


	12. Young Again, OldQuilMolly

Pairing: Old Quil/Molly

Genre: Romance/Adult/Humor

Rating: M

Word Count: 544

Pic Prompt: an old, lit-up VW van sitting by a lake with a brilliant starry night sky above and the mountains silhouetted in the background. You can check out the pic prompt on Tricky Raven in my wolfpack omnibus, Every Dog Has Its Day.

_**A/N:** A little something different for Mel's birthday week. ;) Yes, the Month of Mel party continues! I got a little carried away and couldn't stop writing at 500 words. It was too much fun to stop there!  
><em>

**Young Again**

_Thunk._

Two pairs of legs—one pair a burnished copper, the other a smooth tan flushed pink with desire—fought for purchase in the cramped space the old VW camper claimed as 'bed'. Quil thought calling it a bed was generous.

Goddamn hippies.

"Ah, hell. We're too old for this shit, Moll," Quil complained. "We shoulda given this old thing to Five."

Molly flicked her long brown braid over her shoulder. It was threaded with salt and pepper grey that Quil thought made her look even lovelier than the first time he'd gotten her naked in the old heap. She looked at him with those warm cinnamon brown eyes the Swans were all known for, eyes sparkling with the memories and friskiness of their youth and he knew it was a losing battle as she pressed, "Oh, hush, we are not too old. Besides, that's the whole point."

"What? Being too old?"

"No, recapturing our youth, dear. Remember all those festivals we used to go to? We could really get this old van a-rockin', couldn't we?" she waggled her eyebrows.

"I'm not so old I forgot that. I just like the compensations of old age—like having sex in a bed and sleeping in without getting caught and having old Horatio Swan breathing down my neck about my intentions towards his little girl."

"_Tsk-tsk_, you debaucher," she smirked, nipping at his chin. "Oh! Speaking of, guess what I confiscated from our niece today?" She held up a small plastic container.

Quil cocked his head in curiosity, "Confiscated? From Charlie's kid? She's always baking stuff."

"_Not this kind of stuff_..." she said in a sing-song voice. "I went over to Billy's to ask his boy about an oil change and found half the pack lounging around in Jake's garage stuffing themselves with these. Little Bella's never stingy, so I moved to help myself to one while I spoke to Jake and they all jumped to their feet and shouted 'NO!'."

Quil snickered, "So, naturally, you relieved them of the duty of saving other unsuspecting adults from eating their pot brownies accidentally."

"Naturally," she chuckled, breaking off a piece and offering it to Quil.

"Are you trying to get me baked and take advantage of me, Mrs. Ateara?"

"You know it," she purred, popping it in his mouth and sliding down his chest.

Quil thought there were worse things than being taken advantage of by your wife.

He couldn't think of them … or anything else at the moment.

It would come to him.

_Later_, he thought, as his mind drifted in a happy green haze of lust and good old mary jane.

As they were relaxing in the sweet aftermath, they heard the sound of another car pull up in the lot at the lake and froze, watching each other with wide eyes full of mischief.

_Knock, knock._

"Shit! It's the cops! Hide the dope!" Old Quil joked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and stuffing himself back in his pants.

Molly was laughing as she drew her sundress on over her head and moved to the side door to slide it open.

The smile died quickly when she opened the door and a bright flashlight shined in her eyes as a startled male voice asked incredulously, "_Aunt Molly?_"


	13. Regret, JacobBellaPaul

**Characters: **Bella/Paul, **Pairing: **Bella/Jacob

**Genre:** Angst/Hurt/Comfort

**Word count:** 948, last I checked. Yeah, so it's a flashfic, not a drabble. So sue me. It needed to be longer. I had a story to tell once I saw the picture and I've been listening to freakin' Ed Sheeran's "Small Bump" all week and that's when I went off the rails. Fucking hormones.

**Origin:** Weekly Drabble Contest on Tricky Raven, Prompt #5

**A/N:**_ I know I said I was done with the baby stuff. Obviously, I'm a big fucking liar. I have angst demons to exorcise this week._

**Prompt #5: **[picture is available in my wolfpack omnibus, "Every Dog Has Its Day" on Tricky Raven]

**Regret**

The world went on. It felt wrong, all kinds of wrong, but there it was. The world went on and I had no choice but to carry on with it.

Birds chirped, leaves rustled, and a lone wolf howled in the distance as patrol shifts changed.

I swung my feet, letting them sway with the weight of the Keds dangling haphazardly from my toes before a gust of wind caught them and carried them away in the current of the river.

I preferred this spot on the river's edge for times like this when I craved the quiet to think thoughts I couldn't give voice to.

I loved—love—Jacob and I was secure in his love, but _these_ thoughts were not for sharing.

My breath hitched on a watery sob before I could choke it down—just another reminder of why I was here.

These goddamn hormones—I couldn't trust them. Everything made me cry. Everything and nothing.

_Nothing._

I rubbed my belly like I had unconsciously for months, noting how distended my abdomen remained. My attempts at hiding it beneath chunky sweaters were proved futile time and again.

People still asked.

Every day, they asked.

"_Aw, it's true then? You're pregnant?_"

Like a knife to the heart every time.

It wasn't so much the question as it was having to answer.

In a whisper, at best, "_No, you heard wrong._"

They looked at me like I was lying or crazy, but they just couldn't seem to understand. When you're that far along, it takes time for your body to go back to normal.

I'd never be normal again, though.

Not really.

It was worse, though, so much worse when they knew the truth and tried to relate to my current state of mind.

"_It gets better, honey, it does. I had to two miscarriages myself before I had my three little ones. Plenty of time to have more._"

As if that made it okay.

As if another baby would make up for the precious life lost to Jacob and I.

Like I didn't feel guilty enough as it was.

The crunch of gravel at my back hailed the arrival of someone who either didn't mind being heard or wanted me to have warning.

Sniffling, I tried vainly to hide the reason I was out here alone in the first place.

_Couldn't a girl just cry in peace-and-fucking-quiet once in a while without everybody freaking out and sending out a search party?_

I sighed, expecting to hear Jacob's voice pleading to let him hold me, to let him try to make it better.

But it wasn't hugs I needed.

It was time.

Paul's unexpected voice made me jump, "Mind some company?"

I gave an indifferent, one-shoulder shrug, trying not to let his presence bother me, "Free country."

He would do what he wanted anyway.

Clearing off more of the flat section of rock, he settled next to me-not too close, though. He was different—conscious of my need for space—unlike all the others.

Except for Jacob.

He always knew what I needed.

The hugs were for him. What _he_ needed.

Jacob was a born nurturer. Hugging could set anything right in his world.

We all had our coping mechanisms.

"It's okay, you know," Paul murmured quietly, handing me a good, flat stone for skipping as he idly tossed one in the air and caught it before chucking it into the roiling river.

"What?" I asked, brows drawn together as I stared at the stone in my hand, unsure of what I should do with it.

"I'm guessing you don't know. I thought Baby Alpha told you everything. Figured you'd say something sooner, though, if he did. Anyway, before I phased, I had a girlfriend—serious, you know? She was pregnant. We were a little young, but it was going to be okay," his body moved—a small shrug—and I heard the frown in his voice.

"Then I phased and it all went to shit. I couldn't—wouldn't risk her and the baby when I was still so unpredictable. I told her I just needed some space to deal with my own shit. A week or two. But I took too long and the stress …" he cleared his throat. "She called me to tell me she lost the baby—right before she left to go stay with her grandparents in Texas for a while."

"M'sorry," I whispered, knowing it was a useless phrase. Nothing could make it better.

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant. I meant it's okay to think what you're thinking."

I glanced up at his face from beneath soggy lashes.

"You don't know what I'm thinking," I hissed furiously.

"I do. I might," he relented. "You're young. Jake's even younger. I know you were making the best of it. We all do in that situation, but it's okay to be sad _and_ relieved."

I gasped, shocked to hear my most inner thoughts—my guilty regret—given voice.

My lip quivered, tears pooling, as I swore vehemently, "I loved my baby. _I did._"

I froze as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, reluctant to let him comfort me, the monster that I was, "I know you did. Everyone knows you loved him, but sometimes the spirits know what we need even when we don't know to ask for it. Maybe…" he swallowed audibly and I could swear he was trying not to cry, too. "Maybe this was one of those times," he whispered, running a soothing hand down my back as he pulled me into his lap for a snuggle.

I curled into his warm embrace—so much like Jacob's—and took comfort from a hug for the first time in weeks before I whispered back, "Maybe it was."


	14. IfYouCantBeatEm, JacobBella

Characters: Bella/Wolf/Wolf

Rating: M

Genre: Suspense…?

Word Count: 619 - Yeah, I know, it's another flashfic, not a drabble. Oops! ;)

Prompt: (Quote) "She had a feeling they weren't finished with her yet."

Origin: Tricky Raven's Weekly Fan Fic Drabble Contest, Prompt #6, 2014

**If You Can't Beat 'em, Join 'em**

The pounding beat of her heart pulsed loudly in her ears as Bella leaned just _slightly_ to the left to peek around the cover of a large sitka spruce.

She dived back behind the tree just in time to avoid the two projectiles that whipped past her head.

Hefting her pack full of ammo and lifting her weapon to her shoulder, she risked taking a step out just after the near miss, pulling the trigger twice in rapid succession.

Two loud and very clear kill shots rang out and she grinned in satisfaction as she felt the shimmer that indicated someone had phased.

_Cheaters_, she sneered, but she had a feeling they weren't finished screwing with her yet. Risking another step out, she looked for other enemy encroachers.

Seeing the flash of another muzzle, she darted behind a boulder, propping her weapon on top for stability as she sought her next target.

Another flash to her left caught her eye, making her turn to intercept, forgetting herself and everything her husband had taught her as she took enemy fire to the side of her head, the latex of the water balloon snapping against her skin as the ice cold water made her shriek and give away her position.

_Fucking Quil Ateara and his fucking water balloon laser tag pack bonding weekends._

Her boys loved it, though.

Jake, too, so what was a boy-mom to do?

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Just then, she saw two nearly identical copper and cream blurs dash into the clearing, carrying laser tag vests in their mouths, technically still in keeping with the agreed upon guidelines for the game.

She shook her head, tsk-tsking her boys for playing fast and loose with the rules.

Again.

She rolled her eyes. They were so much like their father.

Rolling from her hip up to her knees, she broke cover for the briefest of seconds as they closed in on her, phasing human—one pummeling her with a barrage of water balloons like machine gun fire while the other marked her with his laser gun.

Her vest vibrated, indicating a kill shot. Her shoulders drooped in resignation as water sluiced down her small frame.

She chuckled to herself at their ingenuity, teaming up the way they did would make them a stronger Alpha and Beta for the pack when they were older.

Her heart swelled with pride.

This was the closest she'd come to getting the drop on her boys since they were toddlers and Quil invented this stupid game.

Dropping her gun to swing around her back on its strap, she raised her arms in surrender, "Okay, okay, you got me, though, I still think phasing is an unfair advantage." She shook her head in defeat. "You should take it easy on your mother," she said with a smile as Eli and Ezra each stepped forward to give her a kiss in apology.

"Sorry, Mom," they chorused, smiling, not the least bit repentant.

"Oh, hush. You are not. Besides," she said quietly, keeping her gaze trained on the ground to hide her expression, "it's not like I am, either."

They pinned their mother with twin looks of shock as she lifted her head and an evil grin spread across her face just before she ducked.

Two kill shots rang out as Eli and Ezra each took two ice cold water balloons to the face.

Bella laughed at the sound of Emily, Kim, and Rachel celebrating and high-fiving each other echoing through the forest.

"Don't try to pull one over on your mother, boys," she cocked her finger like a pistol firing and blew off the smoke before sauntering away with a cocky sway of hips.

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><p><strong>AN:** _Just a long note for my regular readers since I haven't been posting very much lately due to my schedule. The voting ballot is still open for another two days, I think, for **The Non-Canon Awards**. (Voting ends April 9th, according to the blog.) I'm nominated for Non-Canon Author, Best Lemon for Snowed In, Best Poly for Snowed In, Best Quote for Embry from Snowed In, and Best One-Shot for my Jacob/Bella teacher/student fic, Chemistry. _

_The incredibly talented **Dontcallmelee-lee** is also nominated for a banner she did for me for Snowed In and my awesomely gifted pre-reader, **meliz875**, is nominated in a number of categories as well. She's up against me in the Non-Canon Author category, too! How cool is that?_

_If you haven't yet and you're so inclined, you could head on over to the The Non-Canon Awards blog and vote for your favorite authors and artists._

_ . - just click the 'vote' link in the little blue bar at the top and it'll take you right to the voting ballot. Thanks to everyone for reading and voting! You guys rock!_

_The **Tricky Raven Silent Author and Artist Auction** ended recently and it was a huge success. Thanks to everyone who donated and bid on me and the other participating authors and artists to help keep Tricky Raven up and running for our community of wolf girls (and guy ;) ) for another year. My donated one-shots for my winning bidders, Afke Deen and bkhchica, for that should be up sometime in the next few weeks on Tricky Raven, so, if you haven't yet, you might want to sign up over there so you can check those out when the time comes. They will likely be exclusive to Tricky Raven._


	15. Waking Up, Quil

Prompt: Ed Sheeran's "Wake Me Up"

Pairing: Quil/Embry

Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

Word count: 1000

Pre-readers: meliz875 and bkhchica

* * *

><p><strong><span>Waking Up<span>**

The click and gurgle of the coffee pot shattered the silence of what should have been a lazy Sunday morning. I bit my lips, trying not to dwell on the reason it wasn't. Someday, we hoped to have the luxury of lazy weekend mornings again, but for now…

I wandered over to the door, peering into the family room, letting the scorching heat of the freshly made coffee seep into my hands through the mug emblazoned with our daughter's drawing of her unique family—one of a pair of mugs gifted to us by the pack this past week for our upcoming Gotcha Day.

Curled up together on the couch, my mate and his tiny, toddler imprint, Claire, dozed fitfully. Nights like last were rare, but she still suffered them once in a while, though her dreams were _always_ bad.

I don't know what we would have done if not for Bella. She'd been a godsend when she discovered Claire was suffering from nightmares after the attack. Bella had some experience herself with PTSD. Between Jake and Paul—another sufferer of the same affliction—she had found ways to cope that allowed her more restful nights. Coupled with therapy with a professional on the rez who was in the know about the pack, Bella's condition had improved steadily with time and patience.

The same therapist had been working with Claire, but the trauma was great and she was so young. Being separated from her wolf while the tribes fought over where best to place the orphan had done even more damage.

It had nearly broken her and Quil.

The imprint strained nearly to the breaking point before Billy stepped in to insist Quil go stay with Claire at Sam's. The two of them had grown weak and sick with the stress of Claire's traumatic experience. Many people—many tribe members—didn't understand the nature of Quil's imprint, but he couldn't be concerned with appearances when Claire needed him.

Thankfully, the three of us had the pack.

And they had our backs.

We were lucky to have Emily on our side. She claimed Claire as next of kin through the Makah, giving Quil and I time to complete the necessary foster parent certifications and verify our status as members of a recognized indigenous Pacific Northwestern tribe. Orphaned children of native descent were placed with native families when possible, but native foster families were few and far between. With Emily's sponsorship and my own involvement—despite vociferous protests from several disapproving Makah elders—Claire's placement was buttoned up quickly and officially.

The healing would take time, but it was coming along.

I watched them sleep for several minutes, Claire murmuring to her mommy and daddy, begging for her 'Unca Qwee-oo' in slurred murmurs before Quil stirred, his hand absently patting her back as he instinctively whispered necessary assurances thanks to their shared dream connection.

No other imprints had such a connection. Old Quil surmised that it developed due to Claire's immediate need. Quil was better able to respond to her needs because he was privy to her dreams. It was assumed that when she no longer had the need, the connection would go dormant.

Until then, Quil suffered with her.

Every night.

When one member of the pack suffered, we all did, so it wasn't unusual for me to come home late to find Quil and Claire curled up on the sectional together with another pack member, or even one of the imprints, in the shape-shifter version of a puppy pile.

More often than not, Jake, Bella, and Paul would all camp out until I got home.

Not because misery loves company, but because no one understood like the three of them what our broken little family was suffering.

We loved them all the more for it.

I moved around the long end of the couch and sat on the coffee table, perching on the edge to watch them sleep somewhat peacefully for once for a few more moments before the pack turned up to help kick off our big day.

Our first official Gotcha Day.

The name made me smile.

The therapist had warned us that some people frowned on the concept because of some ownership overtones bullshit that had little bearing on how the pack viewed one of its own. The pack was collective in the way of a family. We wanted to celebrate becoming a family, to show Claire time and again that she was loved by the pack and the two of us and as much a part of our family and pack as anyone else.

She wasn't just an imprint.

She was the first pack pup.

Her dainty little lashes fluttered, inky black feathers brushing against dusky golden cheeks. Her pretty hazel eyes drifted open, watery from her bad dreams, and she frowned, sniffling a little as her lip wobbled, "I miss Mommy. Daddy, too."

Setting my 'World's Greatest' mug aside, I hunkered down to her level and brushed the thick fringe of hair out of her eyes.

She would need another haircut soon.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead and withdrew, "I know you do, angel. You remember where we're going today?"

Her little forehead wrinkled before her eyebrows popped up, her eyes lighting up with pleasure, "Beach Day?"

"That's right," I nodded, smiling and stroking her back above Quil's massive paw, drawing comfort from the heat of his hand on our baby girl's back. "You remember what we did last time?"

Her brow furrowed again and she shrugged, shaking her head 'no'.

"We wrote a letter to Mommy and Daddy in the sand, remember?"

A wide grin split her face, "I 'member now! The waves comed and gobbled up da letters onna sands and took dem to Mommy and Daddy wi' da spirits! We do dat again. Tell Mommy and Daddy love dem."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," I promised, sniffling.

Grabbing my hand, she clutched it against her heart, closing her eyes and muttering, "Love you, Unca Emb-wy."

"Love you, too, angel."

* * *

><p>- <em>Written based on a little challenge and a nudge from a friend who suggested I try writing some Quembry mm with lots of feels and fewer BJs than my usual unpublished slash. Review if you like, folks.  
><em>


	16. 21, JacobBellaCharlie

Pairing: Bella/Jacob, Charlie, Billy

Rating: M

Genre: Suspense (O/S genre is angst/hurt/comfort)

Word Count: 269

Prompt: Johnny Cash's "Hurt"

Origin: Tricky Raven's Weekly Fan Fic Drabble Contest, Prompt #7

**A/N:** _So, Mel obviously knew I was working on this yesterday because she nicked the video prompt for the weekly drabble from the suggestions she gave me knowing I chose this one, very likely in order to give me a nudge to post my first angst one-shot because I thought about not posting it and now I have no excuse. This is just a preview to test the waters..._

* * *

><p><strong><span>21<span>**

(preview)

It began with a phone call, on a regular old Saturday like any other Saturday. Bella insisted they make no fuss and, though they did fuss a little, they didn't put a name on it, making it a pack gathering and that was just fine by her.

The pack knew her proclivities and were willing to play along, so it was just another Saturday.

But it being 'just another Saturday on a day when no fuss would be made and no mentions would be made of the reason for the lack of fuss', the entire pack was gathered in Sam and Emily's living room anyway when the call came in.

The call that changed their lives.

The call that made that Saturday unlike any other Saturday before.

Sam picked it up on the first ring, "Hello?"

Jacob heard his father's deep baritone on the other end, "_Sam? Is Bella there?_"

"Yeah, do you want to talk to-"

"_I'm on my way._"

_Click._

Jacob watched Sam hang up the phone as if in slow motion, slick tendrils of dread wrapping around his gut.

Sam rubbed a hand over his heart.

Jacob mirrored the action.

Both knew the sensation, had felt it before-a sixth sense their wolves had that presaged the phase or harm to a member of their pack.

Their heads snapped up, eyes locked. Jacob and Sam realized with growing horror what the call meant as the other wolves in the house quieted, their bodies becoming restless with the same growing sense that had warned Sam's and Jacob's wolves that whatever was coming would be bad.

Really, very bad.

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><p><em>Review if you like.<em>


	17. Blue Bells, EmbryBella

Pairing: Embry/Bella

Genre: Angst/Drama

Rating: M, for language and theme

Origin: Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Challenge, Prompt #7

Prompt: A dark graveyard scene under a layer of light snow or possibly frost. It is available to view in my short story omnibus, Every Dog Has Its Day on Tricky Raven.

**A/N:** _Yes! I did two flashfics this week for the same prompt! Twice the agonies!_

**Blue Bells**

"Jake…" Embry's eyes were wild as he hissed his Alpha's name and dropped to his knees in despair, hands clutching his head as if to mute his agony. "_Where…?_"

The red wolf tilted his head, pity etched on lupine features, because he couldn't say. He just didn't know. She'd been reported missing for more than five hours, leaving a note that said she was going out for a walk.

Her scent was lost in the rain.

They had nothing to go on.

_Nothing._

As if she had simply _vanished_.

"Don't… Don't look at me like that! _Like you don't fucking know!_ Find her!" Embry bellowed at his Alpha, begging, pleading. His heart-rending desperation was more than anyone should have to bear.

The wolf, sitting sentry with his pack brother, searched the minds of the others, but he had no new information to offer. He whimpered, his paws shuffling as he tried to comfort his pack brother.

But Embry wasn't fucking having _that_.

He grabbed his Alpha's head, fingers sinking into the dense fur on either side of his muzzle, his face purpling with rage as he shook him, risking the Alpha's wrath to stare him mutinously in the eyes and scream, "_WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!_"

The warrior growled, trying to choke down his anger at the blatant insubordination because he felt his brother's pain. He was terrified. The whole pack felt it, but he couldn't let Embry phase in.

The terror, the disorder it would cause in the pack mind would cripple them all.

Inside, the Alpha wolf wept for his brother because he knew—deep down, he knew—something was very wrong with his brother's mate.

On the far side of Forks, Quil and Paul had their noses to the ground, desperately searching for some sign, any whiff of her distinctive honey and cream scent that could point the way.

The storm had ended. The air was thick with petrichor.

_One of her favorite scents_, Quil thought.

It was the same scent, she swore, that they gave off when they phased.

They watched through the pack mind as Embry slowly unraveled in her backyard, roaring futilely at Jake, his hands buried in his hair, pulling until streams of red trickled down the sides of his face, soaking his skin.

Jake was at a loss.

The _whoomph_ of the phase was loud in the quiet stillness of the yard, the scent lingering for several moments after he phased human.

Quickly pulling on his shorts, he dropped to his knees in front of Embry, barely brushing his knuckles as he murmured quietly, the order laced with both compassion and the gentlest of compulsion, "Stop. Don't do this to yourself. Think. Did she mention errands she had to run today? Things she planned to do? Is there anything special about today?"

Embry shook his head in denial, unable to think clearly.

"Embry, think," another velvety ribbon of compassionate compulsion wove around them and Embry's chaotic thoughts cleared.

"What's today's date?" he rasped, swiping a bloody hand over his eyes, leaving streaks in its wake.

"Uh… April 18th, I think. Why?" Embry had Jake's full attention now.

"Tell them. Tell them to go to Forks Cemetery."

Jake didn't waste a second, phasing out of his cut-offs to relay the new information to the pack.

Quil's ears perked up, "We're not far-"

Embry's human voice cut him off, "Tell them, the left side of the old part of the cemetery, beyond the loop, under the old-growth spruce. It's not obvious. There's a little knoll. It blocks it from view from the loop."

"On it," Paul assured Jake, paws pounding the earth side-by-side with Quil as they crested the ridge behind the cemetery from the forest side.

Embry continued on in a voice so quiet, they nearly missed it, "She was growing these little flowers for her Gran. Her favorite flowers. She was going to plant them for their anniversary…"

"Phase out if you have to," Jake ordered the others, "but find her."

Not knowing what they were walking into and hoping to spare the pack mind if it was _really_ bad, Quil and Paul phased out at the same time by unspoken agreement as they caught the first faint whiff of honey and cream.

Running full out, dodging ferns and huge, old rose bushes planted a century earlier, they picked up another scent.

Quil cringed at the bitter, coppery tang of it as it burned his nostrils, overcoming the honey and cream scent they'd longed to find.

His heart ached.

He had no idea what they were about to stumble across.

And then they did.

Frost from the chill that swept through overnight lingered on the blades of grass surrounding her body. A thin film of ice coated the broken, old flagstones she lay sprawled across with a broken pot of little bell-shaped blue flowers.

Her lips and skin a faint shade of blue, mahogany locks—stained red and crusted with ice—lay fanned out across the ground, nearly obscuring the point of impact on the headstone stained with blood. One ankle lay turned at an odd angle.

Paul kneeled beside her—careful—not wanting to jar her if she was still…

He shook his head to clear it of negative thoughts, glancing up at the tombstone carved with the names Horatio and Isabelle Swan.

"Christ, Swan," he muttered, "leave it to you to crack your fucking melon on a grave with your own name on it."

Quil hissed at him, "Shut the fuck up and check her pulse, asshole. Embry's gonna lose his shit and the last thing we need is for him to phase and find her like this because we took too goddamn long."

Paul listened, but he couldn't hear anything over the thunderous drub of Quil's heartbeat and his own racing heart. Touching two fingers gently to her throat, his body sagged and Quil nearly phased on the spot.

"Call Jake," Paul said as his eyes burned with tears.

"No.. Oh, god…" Quil sobbed.

Paul shook his head, meeting his pack brother's tortured gaze with a glimmer of relief as he breathed…

"She's alive."

* * *

><p><strong>Endnote:<strong> _I have a special treat for reviewers this time, too! I have an even happier ending for this flashfic—a little drabble that I wrote off the cuff in response to a review on Tricky Raven that suggested this ending needed fixing. :GASP!: 'Fixing?' I thought to myself. I liked it just fine as it ended, but far be it from me to deny my readers. ; ) Leave me a review and I'll send you my response to the reader's request for a little more of Embry and Bella's HEA after Paul discovers she's alive at the end of "Blue Bells"._

__If you haven't seen it yet, the one-shot that I previewed in the previous chapter of Every Dog Has Its Day (Chapter 16) is now available on my profile page. Its title is "21". Enjoy!_  
><em>


	18. Bryannas Puppy, EmbryBellaJacobJess

**Cast of Troublemakers:**

Bryanna Call, age 4 1/2

Harry Lahote, age 3 1/2

Ethan Uley, age 3

Jackson Black, age 3 (appears in the longer one-shot)

**Rating:** K

**Genre:** Family/Adventure

**Word Count:** 760 (Technically, this is a drabble-ish-length preview since I got carried away, but I think the preview tells a pretty cute story all by itself, so it gets to be both! ^_^ )

Prompt: a video of puppies!

**Bryanna's Puppy**

"Indoor voice, please, Bry," Bella called out.

"Dis _is_ my indoor voice, Mommy. I inside! When I outside, my outside voice is _much_ louder," she called out as she and Harry ran through the living room to the back door.

Embry patted their heads with an indulgent grin and Bella rolled her eyes as they passed, Bella calling out once more, "Don't slam the—"

_Bang!_

"—door," came the muffled end of her mommy's sentence as Bryanna tugged little Harry over to her secret fort.

Putting a finger to her lips, she pointed with the other hand for Harry to look inside.

Warily, Harry leaned over to look. He knew Bryanna wasn't the type of friend to play pranks like their friends Jackson and Ethan, but her secret fort was dark and she was being mysteros- mystersy- she was being _weird_.

Working up his nerve—he was a Lahote and his dad wasn't afraid of _nothing_—he peered into the half-buried fort beneath the bright yellow bush in the Calls' backyard.

Amber eyes set in a furry, golden face peered back, yipping happily at him and bouncing on the ground like he wanted to play.

"Bwee… When did you get puppy?" Harry asked enviously, his dark eyes going wide as he brushed the long, shaggy hair off his forehead.

She put her finger to her lips again, "Shh… I foun' 'im in da woods when I sneaked out back there." She pointed to a loose part of the fence that looked like it would be easy to pull aside.

The puppy whimpered just as their friend Ethan came bounding out the back door to join them. He gasped when he saw what was hiding behind his friends.

Harry caught him up to speed quickly.

Then the puppy whimpered again.

"He sounds sad." Ethan's heart went out to the puppy. "What should we do?"

All the pack kids knew the legends and most of them were old enough to have seen their dads phase on the fly once or twice. Uncle Billy had sat them all down and explained how important it was to keep tribal legends a secret and said that one day, they might be protectors, too.

Bryanna had always wanted to be a protector, ever since Uncle Billy told them two whole months ago about being one.

_Two whole months!_

And she _still_ hadn't figured out how to poof into a big doggy.

Then the puppy whined again.

The sound made her sad. She wanted to help him.

She decided she had to see into his brain to know what was wrong. This was it. She was going to do it to help her puppy.

"Back up," she told the others as she dropped her cardigan and pulled her sundress over her head.

She debated whether to step out of her My Little Pony unders, but she hated them anyway. She told her mommy how many times that she wanted the Transformers unders with Ratchet on them...? She was holding out for the Tranformers ones. These My Little Pony ones were expend- expendy- They could go poof, too.

"What are you doing?" Harry's eyes got even wider as he watched Bry clumsily tie her dress around her ankle like she'd seen Harry's mom do with hers once.

"I'm gonna poof so I can see the TV in his head." It made perfect sense to her. Her daddy and Uncle Jacob had explained how they could see each other's thoughts in the pack brain when they were poofed into big doggies together.

Harry and Ethan nodded in unison, agreeing immediately, "Okay." Bryanna was the oldest. If anybody knew stuff, it was her.

"Okay," she said, squinching her eyes closed. "I'm gonna do it. If it works, I'll bark, so you'll know. Then you poof into doggies, too."

Harry looked dubiously at Ethan, then back at Bryanna, "Um… Okay. We'll watch you to learn how."

Bryanna huffed at the doubt in his voice. She was _sure_ she could do this.

She thought about the big grey doggy her daddy turned into. She thought about his pretty spots and hoped she would have spots like that, too.

She loved polkadots.

Imagining wagging her tail and scratching an itch behind her ear with her foot and catching frisbees in her big doggy mouth, she thought about how fuzzy and warm her fluffy doggy coat would be. She could practically _feel_ the heat from her doggy coat.

The warm coat suddenly felt uncomfortably warm and she shuddered, stretching as if to loosen it and fan herself—

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><p><em>Keep an eye out for the longer one-shot later tonight or tomorrow. ;) GAH! The cuteness!<em>


	19. Antivenom, JacobBella

**Pairing:** Bella/Jacob

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Action

**Word Count:** 613 (I'm getting better. ;))

**Prompt:** "Here we go again."

**Origin:** Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Round-up.

**Antivenom**

Bella sat on the floor, her back propped against the unforgiving concrete wall that, to many, would have felt like a cell. To Bella, the pack, and the rest of the tribe, it represented the closest thing to home that they had known for the last few weeks.

The pack had made a run down to South America to help another indigenous tribe hold off the Volturi several months back, before the attacks had stepped up.

The Volturi had found out about shape-shifters a few years back and seemed intent on wiping them out for the sole purpose of destroying anything that could pose a threat to their reign.

Bella had a good idea who might have let that little secret slip—the petty, obnoxious little coppertop twerp who'd sworn he was her soul mate once upon a time, then left her for dead—

She snorted in disgust, interrupting her own thoughts and swiping a filthy hand over her dusty face. She froze when she saw her hand.

The sight of her calloused hands was still a shock after all this time. The attacks had been ongoing for several years—long enough for the tribe to build this bunker and expand a series of interconnecting tunnels deep beneath the rez that began as an old moonshine operation during prohibition.

It became their refuge when the swarms of newborn vampires continued to plague their lands. Someone was intent on wiping them out, especially now that word had gotten out about their secret weapon.

Charlie's bullets.

Or, more accurately, _Bella's bullets_.

When Edward saved her all those years earlier in Phoenix, he inadvertently created an anomaly—a living human whose body began to develop antibodies to the trace amounts of venom that remained within the scar tissue. The scar became inflamed after Jacob marked her, affording the clinic physician on the rez the chance to do a thorough study of the wolves, Bella's trace scar venom, and her unique blood.

What he found finally silenced all the naysayers amongst the tribe who spurned the Blacks because Jacob married an outsider.

That outsider held the cure for vampirism—antivenom.

It was Bella who found a way to weaponize it. With Charlie's help, hollow-point bullets were manufactured in secret in a small chamber beneath the council hall, each one containing a small, but deadly drop of Bella's blood.

Antiquated vampirism was no match for modern technology. Nor were the vampires anywhere near as invincible as they assumed.

The AV bullets expanded on impact, creating fissures in the body of the host. Once those fissures were open, the venom within the vampire itself acted against its own best interests—seeking out and consuming the miniscule amount of blood within.

The vampires dropped within nanoseconds of impact.

Charlie—an expert marksman—trained anyone brave enough to leave the bunker during a vampire incursion.

The tribe had thirty trained snipers. Bella and the imprints were the first seven to complete the training.

A knock sounded on the door at her back.

"It's time," Jacob's Alpha voice resonated through the thick steel door as no human voice could.

Dusting off her worn fatigues and checking her pockets, Bella looked to the other women as they rose to their feet, making eye contact with each before she swung the door open and kissed her mate 'hello'.

"Scouts say at least twenty this time. Pack has engaged twelve. Eight remain on the loose. You ready?" he asked, indulging himself, holding her another moment before letting go.

She nodded sharply, smiled, turned, and kicked the outside door open with one booted foot before he phased and bolted out ahead.

Raising her rifle to her shoulder, she murmured, "Here we go again."


	20. How do I love thee?, EmbryBella

**A/N:** _This entry is a drabble-length preview of a one-shot that I wrote for the _**Tricky Raven Author & Artist Silent Auction**_ for my high bidder, _**Afke Deen**_. I actually donated two one-shots for high bidders for the auction this year and I will be posting both of them here on FFn eventually, beginning with the full-length version of this one-shot in a few days' time, so add me to your author alerts if you want to be notified when it is posted._

**Pairing:** Embry/Bella

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Romance/Fluff

_Preview, "How do I love thee?"..._

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><p>Bella shivered as a delicate cross-breeze from Second Beach sent the filmy white sheers over the open blinds fluttering.<p>

"Cold?" Embry asked, tightening his hold around her middle.

"Never, with you here," she swore, wrapping her arm over his where it lay under her breasts.

Pulling his arm from beneath hers, he slipped a finger under the thin strap of her silk jersey cami, running his knuckles the length of it down the bare expanse of her smooth shoulder blade. "This wasn't exactly designed for warmth," he said, touching his lips to her rounded shoulder, opening them so he could touch just the tip of his tongue to the skin there before he withdrew, her skin clinging lightly to his moist lips.

Reaching back to run her free hand down his stomach to the waistband of his grey boxer-briefs, she plucked at them and snickered, "Neither were these, you know."

Not that she was complaining. She loved the feel of the worn cotton rubbing against her as he inadvertently ground his hard length into the soft cleft of her bottom in his sleep. His legs would tangle with hers as they snuggled together and her little boy shorts would ride up, the rough hems of his boxer-briefs rubbing the backs of her thighs.

She shuddered delicately with desire, but tried to turn the conversation to take her mind off of it. "We can't lay here in bed all day, Emb. The summer session just started and we took off all last weekend, too, to move in. We need to study."

"Who says we can't study right here? Hmm? How about some British Lit?" he moved, repositioning her on her back in the center of the bed and sliding one long, muscular leg between hers. Parting her smooth, creamy thighs gently and easing them apart to make room, he nestled in the cradle of her hips. Propping his chin on top of his folded hands on her stomach, he smirked, "Gimme a beat."

"A beat? Are you channeling Quil? You want me to beatbox for your romantic poetic recitation now?"

He huffed in mock annoyance, "Fine. You want acapella? You got it."

Clearing his throat, he swept strong capable hands behind her lower back. His long, slim fingers stroked her skin as he moved up onto his knees between her legs and drew the little silk cami over her head, tossing it away without looking where it went.

He didn't care where it landed, as long as it was gone and all that luminous, pale pink flesh was bare to pay his homage.

Bringing his lips to her throat just below her ear, he murmured, "_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…_"

Bella shivered, cupping his cheeks to hold his gaze, telling him again without words how much she loved him.

But he knew.

This was _his_ time—his time to show her all that and more.

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><p><em>Looking forward to reading more? I'm eager to hear your thoughts on where this one is headed!<em>


	21. Ten Years & Two Bites, JacobBella

**Pairing:** Jake n Bells

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Family/Fluff/Romance

**Prompt:** "Love Bites" by Def Leppard

**Word Count:** 507, for the preview. The one-shot that follows, on the other hand... Can we just all agree that I need more practice at this brevity thing? So this is a preview for the one-shot I couldn't avoid writing...

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><p><strong><span>Ten Years &amp; Two Bites<span>**

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><p><span>Jake n Bells, ages 6 and 7 ½<span>

Jake n Bells sat on his back stoop, eating a pair of juicy peaches his mama bought at the market. Well, three peaches, technically, because Jake ate enough for two six year olds, easy.

But he _did_ offer to share his with Bells. Jake would give her the shirt off his back, the pillow off his bed, or the little stuffed red wolf named Russell that he'd had since he was born.

Jake loved Bells more than food, and that was really saying something.

Bells ate her peach efficiently, nibbling daintily around the pit and neatly removing all the sweet yellow fruit before moving on to the next bite.

Meanwhile, Jake gobbled his like it was the last fresh peach on earth and zombies were about to storm the yard and eat his brain before he could finish it.

Jake did everything like it was his last moment on earth. Bells didn't know anyone else who could squeeze the happy out of every waking moment like Jake could. He was born happy and busy. He never stopped moving or fiddling or thinking about something.

Bells, on the other hand, was quiet and thoughtful and did everything with a quiet deliberation.

At seven and half, she had already chosen which college she would attend (University of Washington so she and Jake could go together), what she would do when she grew up (a librarian at the school on the rez), and where she would live (in the house next door to Jake). They spit and shook on it two weeks earlier when she told him her plan for the rest of her life after she informed him sadly about her parents' divorce and having to go back to live with her mom at the end of summer.

Jake had gnawed the sweet flesh thoroughly, if not efficiently, off of both of his peaches. The juice was running down his chin when he tilted his head, looking at her funny.

"Bells?" he asked.

"What's up, Jake?" she smacked her lips delicately and set her peach pit carefully on the step beside her where it wouldn't stain Jake's new shorts.

"If you move to Phoenix, will you live there forever?" his lip wobbled and Bells had to remind herself that he was only six and his parents still lived together.

Bells didn't think they had much longer, though. They fought all the time about the twins.

Loud fights, too, just like when her parents fought over her before they decided to not live together.

"No, I'll get to come visit Daddy every summer and most of the holidays from school. The judge said so. And it won't be forever. I have to come back to go to college with you and live next door and be a librarian. I can't do that in Phoenix," she tried to ease his worry, leaning into his shoulder to nudge him into giving her one of his biggest, bestest hugs.

She knew what he was thinking.

"Will you marry me, Bells?"

_Or maybe not._

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><p><em>You can find the rest of the one-shot in a few days when it is posted to my profile on FFn.<em>


	22. Promises Kept, JacobBella

**Pairing:** Jacob/Bella

**Rating:** M, language, discussion & aftermath of assault

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort

**Word count:** Sigh… 926. In my defense, though, there's a fairly good reason that I didn't stress the rules this time. You'll see it at the end. And, yes, it's my second drabble this week. I wrote one for both prompts.

**Prompt:** "Do you think I'd be here if I cared?"

**A/N:** _I've been kicking around this idea-what if SM's vamps were the real stuff of nightmares? Would Laurent have been content just to drain her? A vampire with no mate—a real monster—wouldn't pass up an opportunity to slake his lust as well as his thirst, I suspect. You've been **WARNED**. ;)_

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><p><em>✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫<em>

**Promises Kept**

_✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫_

Silvery moonlight washed pale and luminescent over Bella's pallid yellow skin, interrupted only by the fresh bloom of dark purple and sickly green bruises.

Still, Jake had never thought she looked more beautiful than she did in that moment.

She was alive.

Hands clasped beneath his chin, Jake thanked the Spirits for his curse for the first time since he phased three weeks earlier.

Bella was barely conscious when the pack arrived in the clearing. Clothes torn and face swollen, the leech hadn't been content to simply drain her.

The dreadlocked motherfucker was getting off on playing with his food first.

Bella's clothes were shredded. Not even enough left to cover her for modesty's sake for the run back to the clinic on the rez, one of his brothers had snagged a sheet from someone's clothesline near the forest's edge.

Sporting no obviously broken bones, she had been lucid just long enough for them to make sure she could move her arms and legs.

Mercifully, she lost consciousness from the trauma she had endured before Jake tried to wrap her in the sheet.

They brought her back to the clinic, knowing their doctor would ask fewer questions about her injuries before they could come up with a likely story.

She had been quietly admitted while the Elders decided who was going to contact Charlie and what they should tell him.

The Elders agreed that Charlie was still an outsider and weren't sure if he could be trusted with the tribe's greatest secret.

Jake warned them that _they_ could tell him or _he_ would, but either way Charlie would know by the end of the day that his daughter had nearly died because the Elders kept the secret of vampires from him.

As far as Jake was concerned, Bella was as much a victim as any other human who got taken in by vampires.

His own father had argued that he warned her about them, but no one knew for sure whether or not Bella was under the influence of the vampires' thrall or if the human mind was even strong enough to heed those warnings while under the thrall.

To Jake's and his brothers' way of thinking, the tribe had failed to protect Bella, a human like any other.

The Elders had lost their sense of purpose, blinded by long-held ideals and thinly-concealed racism.

But there was no room in life or death situations for outdated politics.

By an overwhelming majority, the pack had decided it would no longer take its orders from the Council of Elders.

The sight of Bella's broken body weighed heavily on each of their minds.

Bella stirred and Jake realized her meds must have been wearing off about then.

A low, pained whine escaped her throat as she brought a shaky hand to her forehead, fingertips grazing lightly over the gauze at her cheek.

Fighting to open her eyes, her throat dry—desiccated from her screams, she was barely able to slit her bruised eyelids open a millimeter or attempt asking for help.

"Shh… Wait one sec," Jake murmured, rising to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom. Returning with a bowl of warm water, he wiped her eyes and cleaned her face, gently bathing her with tender touches and soft words. Then, he held a small cup of water to her lips to ease her parched throat.

It was the sounds of her excruciating screams that put the pack on the alert in the first place. Otherwise, they might never have found her.

Parting her lips, she tried to speak—a single word, "Jake…"

"Sh…" Jacob hushed.

But Bella paid him no mind, insisting, "He's… gone?"

"Yes," he confirmed. He was hesitant to ask, but he needed to know, "Do you remember the attack?"

A fearful whimper escaped her throat as she wrapped her arms around her body and turned away, breaking Jake's heart again.

She tried to ask, "Did- did he…"

"He did _not_ rape you. We got there in time," he swore, deeply grateful that it was true.

"M- my fault," she began, stuttering.

"_**No**_," Jake's denial thundered, echoing off the walls of the small room.

Shaking her head and recoiling from him, she continued, "Billy … warned me. Dated one… them. Their … pet."

"Do you think I'd be here if I cared about that?" Jake murmured softly, itching to reach out and take her hand, but wary of causing her more pain or emotional distress. "He warned you, but did nothing to protect you. Dad has a lot to answer for today, first and foremost to Charlie. There are some things I have to tell you, Bells, secrets that were kept that put your life in danger. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me most. I broke my promise."

"Didn't," she hissed, grabbing his hand with what little strength she had left. "You... _there_ when... needed you most. _Kept_ your promise."

"And I always will," he promised once more, grateful to have a second chance. He bowed his head over their joined hands as a single tear spilled over. Pressing his lips to the warm and reassuring pulse beneath her delicate skin, turned florid with the marks of her ordeal, he felt the rhythmic drub of her life's blood—all the promise he needed to remind him that she was still with him.

_✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫_

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><p><strong>EN:** _This is a test of my ability to write a drabble with the hands-free, voice recognition software on my phone. I hurt my left wrist badly, so the only way to type with any expediency is with the voice rec software on my iPhone. I'm also editing (poorly) with my right thumb while I try to keep my left hand and wrist immobilized in a brace. Please be patient with any errors or typos and I'll do my best to catch them._

_Review if you like..._


	23. Partners In Crime, JacobBellaJess

**Pairing:** Bella/Jess/?

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** adult/humor

**Word Count:** FIVE HUNDRED! BOO-YAH, GRANDMA!

**Prompt: **"It all started with a dare."

**Partners In Crime  
><strong>

Bella wrapped her arms around her legs as best she could, tucking the long blue shirt demurely under her butt.

Wiggling her little red-polished toes on the cool bench, she turned her head, laying it on her knees with a tired sigh as she watched her friend.

Her amigo.

Her sidekick.

Her cohort.

Her partner in crime.

_Literally._

Jessica Stanley sat at the far end of the bench, slumped against the wall. The dark green T-shirt she wore on loan was the only article covering her just to the tops of her long, tan legs as she nervously shook her hand, rattling the handcuff that shackled her to the long bar on the wall at her side.

Digging with one French-manicured big toe, she poked at a crack in the painted concrete floor and asked the million dollar question, "Think your dad will let us go with a warning?"

"In Seattle for a conference," Bella informed her sadly, grimacing with regret. "Deputy Mark is running the show this weekend. Besides, we got caught on the rez. The only reason we're here is because they don't have a 24 hour police force. Billy and the council will most likely have the final say in matters regarding misdemeanors on sovereign soil. La Push is an independent governing nation."

"He's got a sense of humor, though, right?" Jessica was trying not to freak out. She was nineteen and it was freakin' spring break. College kids were supposed to do stupid stuff.

_Not with seventeen year old boys, naked, and in public_, a little niggling voice in the back of her head reminded her.

When she gulped noisily, Bella _tried_ smiling at her in reassurance.

Tried.

Then the babbling began, "I mean, he was our age once. He'll totally understand we just got carried away. It all started with a stupid dare. Besides, I mean, he's seventeen. That's not even _illegal_ in Washington State."

"I'm pretty sure the charge will be 'corrupting a minor', Jess, not 'statutory rape'."

"'Corrupting'…? But—?"

"You can have sex with all the seventeen year olds you want, Jess. It's getting caught fucking like wild monkeys on a public beach by a cop that's the problem," Jake called out from the holding cell across the hall where he lay on his own long bench, one hand behind his head and the other dangling from its own cuff shackled to the bar in _his_ cell. "Being under eighteen is no saving grace, either, just so you know. I could get hammered with public indecency, too."

Flicking a quick glance at Jessica through lowered lashes, Bella shared a conspiratorial look with her before glancing at Jake who had popped one eye open to check out the girls, grinning lazily at both of them as the unsated monster in his boxers stirred at the sight of their bare legs.

"It was totally worth it, though," Bella murmured, giggling, choking a laugh out of Jake and a spurt of snorting giggles out of Jess.


	24. 2B, JacobBella

**Pairing:** Jacob/Bella, featuring Embry, Paul, Quil, and Alice

**Rating:** M, for adult theme, mentions of drinking/drug use

**Genre:** Angst/Drama

**Word Count:** 950—flashfic inspired by a drabble prompt.

**Prompt: **[the picture prompt for week #11 that is available to view on Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Challenge group]**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>2B<strong>

Jacob hesitated, his eyes tracing and retracing the numbers on the apartment door.

2B.

The door to heaven and his salvation at the hands of his angel.

Or the door to hell and his damnation at the mercy of whatever demons lay within, torturing the girl he still loved. The warning of their presence was unspoken but clear in the voice of the pixie leech when she called him earlier at Sam's.

"Jacob Black?" the voice—like nails on a chalkboard—had asked.

"Yes…?" he couldn't imagine one of the Cullen leeches having anything to say that he wanted to hear.

"I know it's been a while—"

"Get to the point, leech," he growled, his patience straining as his brothers gathered around Sam's kitchen table, listening in.

"She left the family a year ago. She wouldn't go home for fear of bringing the threat of the Volturi to her dad and the pack. She's in Seattle, a small studio apartment—"

"She _made_ her choice—"

"Jacob, she's got twenty-four hours at most. The decision you make right now determines her fate. If you go, her future remains blank. Uncertain. That's good. If you don't … Jacob, I can see her funeral, five days from now in Forks, her father weeping over her open casket. She's… It's grim."

Jacob swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes burned with unshed tears, whispering, "It's that bad?"

"It's so much worse than you can even imagine. You're her only friend. If one of us showed up … it would be worse, so much worse. It _has_ to be you. Take some friends. You'll need some help getting her out of there. I'll take care of the apartment and her belongings."

"You say it like I'm going there to bring home her body…"

"I honestly don't know what you'll find."

Even before he knocked on the door, he could smell the stale sourness of the air wafting from under the door of the apartment he'd been directed to. No homey scent of baking cookies, no luscious honey and cream Bella scent, not even the trace of Murphy's Oil soap and lemon Pine Sol he would usually expect of his obsessive compulsive best friend's little nest.

Puffs of dust swirled in the air through the cracks around the door as he knocked.

No answer.

Putting his ear to the door, he could hear the erratic rhythm of a single heart beating within.

The beat faltered.

Jacob took one ragged, deep breath and kicked the door in.

"Bella!" he yelled before the splintered wood hit the floor.

But there was no need.

The apartment was tiny—a boxy studio, no more than a bedroom with a kitchen tucked into a closet on one side and a microscopic, filthy bathroom on the other.

On the floor lay Bella on a mattress that reeked of unwashed linens soaked in whiskey and other unnameable scents he had never before come in contact with.

Jacob stood frozen, unable to comprehend the confusing scene at his feet.

She lay curled on her side, a bottle of Johnnie Walker fallen from one hand, resting on her fingertips, a scorched spoon in the other.

Jacob couldn't make heads or tails of the bizarre assortment of items beside the bed until Embry and Paul stepped up behind him, skirting around the filthy mattress to kneel by Bella's side.

Embry checked for a pulse, sobbing quietly in relief when he found one.

Paul picked up a small plastic bag, his face crumpling, shoulders hunching in recognition as he bit out words in bitter distaste, "It's heroin. If you were waiting for her to hit rock bottom before taking her back, the wait's over. She's already there." He pointed accusingly to the congealed, sticky mess pooling on the floor from the spoon in Bella's hand.

That's when Jacob saw the needles—a dozen or more, caked with grimy fingerprints and sticky, black tar.

The others didn't wait for instructions.

Paul started sorting through her meager possessions, looking for a couple of clean outfits and a bag to pack while Embry grabbed the cleanest washcloth he could find from the pile in the bathroom to wipe the smudges and dry, scaly skin from Bella's face and arms. His hands shook as he wiped tenderly around the track marks and a pair of matching vertical scars on each of Bella's wrists that spoke volumes of her hopeless desperation.

Jacob trembled, so fucking angry, he didn't know whether to phase or scream or both.

He wanted to punch, bite, _kill_ something—tear it apart with his teeth.

But what?

_Who was he really angry with?_

The leech?

_He certainly shouldered plenty of the blame._

Bella?

_A woman who made poor choices as a girl and continued to punish herself for them?_

Himself?

_Did he do his best by her?_

_Would he do it now?_

_And where was this fucking blame getting him while Bella lay on the floor in a heap of filth, punishing __herself__ for the monsters who knowingly ruined her life?_

Quil's voice from the doorway brought the reality of the situation into focus, "I laid down the seats. There's a stack of blankets to keep her warm. Sue is sitting by the phone with Grandad to talk us through any emergencies on the drive back. We're supposed to take her right to the clinic so Sue can assess her condition—see how bad it is."

Lifting the broken, feather-light body of his unconscious best friend into his arms, Jacob bit his lips to keep from sobbing and turned his back on his brothers to hide the burning pain in his eyes as he murmured, "Tell her it's as bad as it gets."

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><p><em>Tough read, I know. Review if you like...<em>


	25. Right Here, JacobBellaEmbry

**Pairing:** Embry/Bella/Jacob (not a poly!)

**Rating:** M, for language

**Genre:** friendship/hurt/comfort/romance

**Word Count:** 1166, I already did a drabble this week, so I'm just indulging in a prompt triple-dip with a flashfic. ;)

**Prompt:** Available on Tricky Raven in the Weekly Drabble Challenge Forum's 2014 Index. (In case it wasn't obvious, I really love this week's prompts.)**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Right Here<strong>

Embry, clearly relieved that the cavalry had arrived at last, swung his apartment door open wide with a look of wild desperation for an annoyed Jacob.

"Where is she?" he asked with a sigh of resignation, pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing against the thumping bass and usual weekend cacophony of Embry and Bella's co-ed dorm.

They'd been roommates for two semesters already, but this was the first time Embry had felt out of his element with her and unsure of how to help.

He said the dickhead she'd been dating on and off for the last six months hadn't just dumped her. He'd done it publicly and blamed it on everything but his own glaring infidelity. Embry had smelled the scent of the other women on him then, when he wasn't trying to hide it anymore. Bella had been too blind to see and terrified to really look too closely for the obvious signs before it all came to a head earlier that day.

So Embry had called Bella's own Mr. Fix-It.

"She's still sitting on the floor in the dining room. I didn't even give her the key to the liquor cabinet. I left her sitting there for ten minutes while I made her some hot cocoa and by the time I came back, she'd already unscrewed and removed the hinges. Even popped the pins out to really show it who was boss. She also downed the best part of a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label that we were saving for a special occasion."

"Fuck, not this again… She's a mess, right?" Jake shook his head. He wanted to blame her taste in men, but he had ultimately left her, too, though it had been kicking and screaming all the way. His poor Bells just couldn't catch a break.

"She needs a _real_ man," Jacob reminded Embry pointedly.

"I'm not what she wants…" he began.

"_Fuck what she wants!_ She has shit taste in men, which is obvious to everyone but you. Man the fuck up. I'm not doing this again, not when you can be everything she needs, you chicken-shit asshole!" Brushing him off, Jacob turned his back before he said something he'd regret, murmuring to the floor, "She needs _you_. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll both stop hurting."

He didn't see the look on Embry's face, but he heard the sharp intake of breath, felt his wounded heart split and bleed through their connection to one anothers' wolves.

Taking in the sad state of his best friend on the floor of the dining room beside the abused liquor cabinet, Jacob hurried down the hallway. Lowering himself quietly beside her, he rubbed a hand over her back. It was small consolation, but he knew she just needed a little touch and love. She was Pack and every bit as connected to the wolves as each of the boys were. Touch was everything to an injured packmate.

She hiccuped when Jacob pulled her into his arms, settling her on his lap. He wheezed at the whiskey on her breath, but somehow managed not to choke when she exhaled deeply—right in his face.

"You know it's not you," he reminded her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Emb told you what happened?" her lip trembled and she blinked wearily, her puffy, red eyes almost swollen shut from the depth and breadth of her grief.

Jacob nodded, clamping his arms around her in a fierce, friendly hug. "It's not you. It's us. We don't know how to love you the way you deserve and we fuck it all up. It's how we're made. Having dicks makes us stupid. Two heads, but hardly enough brains to fill _one_, ya know?"

She snorted a reluctant laugh at that, then turned to look into his eyes.

Cupping his cheeks, she smooshed them together, still a little drunk. "You always loved me the right way, but then you got an imprint and she loves you bestest. Don't talk like you're one of them. You never were," she swore, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

An artless kiss that reeked of booze and salty tears and too much cherry chapstick.

It didn't quite live up to his memories.

"I love you, Bells. I always will, but not the way you _need_," he emphasized 'need' for Embry's sake, knowing he was listening in on their little chat.

"Maybe I need to get away, go someplace where there are fruity drinks and everyone wears a bathing suit and all they're looking for is a hookup," she slurred.

Jacob heard Embry's heart rate pick up—a galloping pace—at the mention of her leaving, then a thump before the floor vibrated. He could well imagine poor Embry, slumped against the wall of the kitchen behind him, praying she wouldn't leave. His heart broke for his brother. He couldn't imagine if the girl _he_ loved left. It would break him.

Bella would break Embry.

Drawing her back down to rest her head on his shoulder, he rubbed his chin over her silky hair and whispered, "You don't really want that, though. You want to be loved."

"Why can't anyone love me enough to want to keep me, Jake?" she sniffled, barely holding back the sobs that wanted out, squeezed her throat, and made her cough. "Why am I never enough?"

"Oh, honey," and then Jacob was sniffling, too, fighting his own sympathetic tear ducts in the face of her despair, "You _are_ enough. You just were meant for greater things than the leech and this new dickhead … and even me. I still love you. I'm just not _meant_ for you. I have a feeling, though, that if you look closer to home, you might find what you need—right here." He tapped a blunt finger over her heart.

She rubbed the spot, massaging the ache as she puzzled over his words. Finally, she asked, "Here, as in my heart? Or in a zen-like way like _'look within and learn to love yourself, grasshopper'_?"

Jacob chuckled at her horrible Master Po impression, shaking his head, "No, I meant here _in Washington_, at home. Right here." He tapped the floor beside him as he heard Embry come to stand in the doorway.

"He's right, Bells," Embry's voice interrupted the humming silence.

She blinked at him owlishly, unconsciously tidying her hair with a self-conscious flick of fingers.

"About what?" she whispered, afraid to look at him after the way she'd behaved. The hair fell in her eyes again.

Dropping quietly to his knees before her, he reached out with trembling fingertips, brushing the errant lock away from her eyes with a tremulous smile.

He took a deep breath and Jacob could see him bowing up inside like the man he wanted to be for her. Finally ready to take the next step and tell her the truth, he grabbed her hand and confessed, "About finding the love you need _right here_."

**- - o - - o - - o - -**

_Thoughts? Can you guess Embry's secret?_


	26. Where Wildflowers Bloom, SamBella

**Future-take from my drabbles "Right Here" & "Right Now"**—which I'm just going to call the **Here & Now **drabble series from now on when I dabble in drabbles for it. Chapter 25 of this omnibus was "Right Here". "Right Now" is exclusive to Tricky Raven for the time being because it is an update told in screen shots of a text conversation between two phones. You can check it out on Tricky Raven under the drabbles group, Week #11. Eventually, I imagine I may start a series for them here on FFn or FictionPad—after I have Part III finished. ;)**  
><strong>

**Pairing:** Bella(/Embry) & Sam

**Rating:** M, for language

**Genre:** Friendship/Family

**Word Count:** 783

**Prompt: **"You've helped make me who I am."**  
><strong>

**- o - o - o -**

**Where Wildflowers Bloom**

**- o - o - o -**

_What are they doing?_ Jared asked in the collective consciousness.

_Just talking. It's something they've done since Sam first welcomed her to the pack, long before we realized she was my mate. He worried about her, so he wanted her to feel like she always had someone to talk to—like the rest of us—a brother,_ Embry explained, laying his head on his paws.

**- o - o - o -**

"So you guys are really moving back? For good?" Sam asked, swatting a wildflower that tickled his ear.

Bella loved the little meadow behind the Ateara place where she and Sam lay side by side in the tall grass. She and Quil often played there together as kids when her gran had them both for a visit on a Saturday afternoon. She and Embry had inherited the old house when Old Quil passed on earlier that year.

Sam handed her flowers, picking them automatically for her out of habit as she wove a chain of daisies, dandelions, and buttercups.

"Yup, the clinic doctor was practically drooling when he got notice that I was moving back. He's been looking to retire, but his replacement had to be in on the secret. I think he's been holding out for me all this time."

Sam snickered, "I _know_ he has. Old Quil gave him a blistering lecture about putting off his own pleasure for a few years for the sake of serving his tribe. Then Billy bribed him with an extra two weeks of vacation for the last five years and that was the end of any retirement talk for a while. Old Doc Tattersall's ready to erect a bronze statue in honor of your return. The fact that he's getting a trained ER doctor in you and Embry is returning to open a pediatric practice in Forks is just icing on his retirement cake."

The thought of her husband spending his days drying tears, wiping sniffly noses, and passing out lollipops made her smile—not that she hadn't expected him to go into pediatrics. He was a wonderful, doting father and uncle to their boys and Sam and Emily's kids.

"Now that we're moving back, do you think we can convince any of the others to go finish their degrees?"

"Quil is in no hurry. He loves being a wolf and helping his mom with the store. When he meets his imprint, who knows?" he shrugged, then looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Jake… I know he doesn't want to make a fuss, but … it's not like you won't find out soon anyway…"

"What?!" she flipped up on her side, leaning on her fist as she laid the wildflower chain over Sam's chest like a pageant sash, giggling at his grimace.

"He's been taking courses online when he could and a few night classes in PA when Hazel's brothers were around to help out around the clock with the twins. He filled out the paperwork and they mailed him everything, diploma and all. Jake's a teacher."

Bella gasped, "Get the fuck out!"

"Math, Science, and Shop at the rez school. You know all the teachers have to pull double-duty. Jake figures he's got time, so he got certified for all three. He starts subbing in two weeks and he'll be full time in the fall."

"Wow… He never said a word! We need to throw a party or something."

"Yup. Anyway, I think Paul's next."

"What's he studying?"

"Early childhood education and child psychology."

Bella laughed, "No shit?"

"_You_ started it. You and Embry had him babysitting up in Seattle every other weekend and before he knew it, he was watching all the pack kids back home when he was here. Little Jay won't even let Kim kiss his booboos. He demands Uncle Paul do it."

A startled laugh burbled up in Bella's throat at the mental image of Paul kissing booboos. Not that her boys hadn't been every bit as enamored of their Uncle Paul. He gave them their first couch fort building kit and was the first one to play 'the floor is lava' in their tiny two bedroom apartment in the city. The broken lamp was worth the memories her boys would have.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he becomes a pediatric psychiatrist. The kids all go to him first with their problems, big and small."

"Like the rest of us do with you," Bella murmured, laying a hand on his arm. "It wouldn't have been possible without you, Sam, for any of us. Since the day you pulled me, silent and heartbroken from the woods, you've helped make me who I am, and all the rest of them, too. We owe you … everything."

**- o - o - o -**

_So, what do you think of the future for Right Here and Right Now's Embry, Bella, Jake, and Sam?_


	27. What Never Was, Paul

**Pairing:** Paul/OC & His Almost Imprint

**Rating:** M, for theme (death/loss)

**Genre:** Drama

**Origin:** Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Challenge, Prompt #12

**"Here & Now" flashfic series:** **This drabble happens 2 years after "Where Wildflowers Bloom".**

**A/N: **_Just a heads up about the flashfics in the "Here & Now" series - this will be the last of the Here & Now flashfics I post under this omnibus. This particular omni is for unrelated short stories and all the "Here & Now" flashfics no longer qualify. They will share the same canon and timeline, so I started a separate group for them on Tricky Raven under the name "Here & Now" because Tricky Raven allows more flexibility to write a story out of order based on writing prompts and using more innovative storytelling techniques. The flashfics are neatly ordered in a table of contents under the group on Tricky Raven and I have the ability to continue to tell parts of the story through screen shots of text conversations like I tried with "Right Now", the follow-up to "Right Here". There is also a kind of glossary of OCs available on Tricky Raven. If my readers really want a version of that group here on FFn, I'll try to make that happen somehow, but I'll warn you now that FFn does not allow for as much innovation in the style of storytelling, so the really cool stuff won't look quite as cool when I post the text-only version here. ;)_ Let me know in the comments if you'd like a version of the "Here & Now" series posted here on FFn. If there's enough interest, I can be convinced to find a way to make the text available on FFn or even FictionPad, at the very least.

**- o - o - o - o - o - O - o - o - o - o - o -**

**What Never Was**

**- o - o - o - o - o - O - o - o - o - o - o -**

Paul walked onto the small tribal burial grounds in the heart of the reservation carrying a large bouquet of black-eyed susans tied with a bright yellow ribbon. Jake had once said that the flowers running riot behind their house reminded him of his mom and … _her_.

So he cut a big bunch and tied them with the ribbon to tidy up their stems—like putting a bow on a present. It seemed the thing to do when bringing an offering of peace and love to the dead.

He traversed the rows and familial groupings of burial markers easily with the grace inborn in all his kind, seeking the one near the center of the tribal grounds, a place reserved for those who embodied the tribe's legends in life.

Unconsciously, he circled, matting down the grasses beside the grave in the way of his wolf before settling down to bare his heart to this, the woman whose soul and life he was meant to share, taken before her time, before they ever had the chance to find one another.

Still, her impact on his life had been monumental, and for _that_ he would pay his respects. He started with his usual greetings, a prayer for her, and a low, mournful whine of lamentation from his wolf before he got to the heart of the matter and the reason for his visit that day.

"It's not like you and I were ever anything to each other but a possibility. Still, if you hadn't…" He shook his head. "No, not that. I'm sorry your brother had to lose you so soon after losing your mom—his mom, but I will be forever grateful to you for the gift your passing has given me. It woke me up—even though my wolf ran crazed and feral for a month mourning an imprint he never got to experience through you and me.

"At the end of all that, Bella charged in, guns blazing, ready to rally the pack around me to show me and my wolf that I was loved and wanted and had a purpose beyond an imprint that never existed in the first place. She became my family, my first sister. She held my hand and petted my wolf and gave him permission to mourn even though I was confused and lost. You brought my sister to me, the first family I've ever really known.

"You gave me a family. It's like, I had no idea I was ever meant to be an uncle, but I couldn't imagine my life any other way. Then I met Celeste, my heart. She's everything. She's this little French-Cajun firecracker—a friend of Bella's and Hazel's from when they were kids. You'd love her as much as I do. And she's a _mom_. The time I spend with her and her— _our_ daughter, it's a gift. I'm going to marry her in a few days. I don't want to miss a single moment of the time I could have with my girls. Like the kids, I've learned to live _in_ the moment and _for_ the moment and to make the most of every precious second I have with them and the rest of the pack. You've helped make me who I am today, Rachel, and I will _always_ love you for that."

He tensed, then relaxed when a dainty hand alighted on his shoulder. His tiny blonde mate folded her legs and leaned into his side, baring her neck to show him his mark on her throat—a silent display of her love and understanding for the man, and a reminder to the wolf that _his_ pain was hers as well, "You miss her, cher?"

"My wolf does. Always will." Paul knew the wolf would return to the burial grounds on his own when he phased next and lay for a time by Rachel's side. It was his way.

"She's worthy of his devotion," she said quietly without a hint of jealousy for the woman the wolf mourned in his heart. "She brought you to us, says Isa. Her final gift was to our family. It was you."

* * *

><p><em>*You didn't expect me to give you some sort of <em>_normal__ imprinting relationship, did you? ;) What did you all think of the heart of the reason behind Paul's dramatic turnaround into the pack's fluffiest babysitter? His wolf's grief over the death of the imprint he never got to meet to imprint on is especially humbling to me. Poor puppy. :(_

_Does "Where Wildflowers Bloom" become all the more poignant knowing what you know now?_


	28. Newt-ered, JacobBellaPackMike

**A/N:** _Apologies in advance for the lack of finesse with this one. I tried to pull a flashfic or drabble-length section out of a longer one-shot that I'm still working on based on this prompt . Hopefully, this still conveys a coherent story. ;)_

**Players:** Bella/Jacob, Leah, Embry, Quil, Newt the Dog

**Rating:** M, for language

**Genre:** humor/friendship

**Prompt:** SpongeBob misquote meme that I provided to meliz875 to give her muse a kick in the teeth that she turned around and used as the drabble prompt on Tricky Raven for week #13: "I came here to fuck bitches." (Seriously, you HAVE to go over to Tricky Raven and see the picture of this prompt!)

* * *

><p><strong><span>Newt-ered<span>**

Leah smacked the stray dog Jake brought home on the nose with a newspaper, "So help me gods, you sniff my crotch one more time, Newt, and I will take you to get you neutered myself."

Bella walked into the kitchen, halting abruptly in the doorway with a stack of hand towels, "What? What the fuck is _that_? What _is_ that thing?"

Leah cast about for an answer as the dog sniffed Bella's ass more thoroughly than either Jake, Quil _or_ Paul had ever dared, letting out a sigh of contentment as he rubbed against her leg, making Jake growl and lift his lip in warning.

"Uhh … a dog?" Leah tried not to make it sound like a question.

"You called it Newt," Bella observed.

Embry and Quil snickered. Jake wised up and tried to sneak out the back door.

Bella noticed her mate trying to escape without an explanation and demanded, hands on hips, "Hold it right the fuck there, Jacob Black. You don't get to just waltz in here with a freakin' stray from god-knows-where and drop it off without so much as a 'honey, I got a damn dog'. Where did that thing come from? And what is it?"

Jake froze-a deer in headlights-refusing to look Bella in the eye, "Uh, Seth found it?"

She crossed her arms under her breasts, just over the gentle swell of his pup under her apron. His heart melted a little and his eyes unfocused as he got lost in fantasies of cuddling with Bella in bed on a lazy Saturday morning sometime next year, cradling her and their pup while she nursed him and they watched old cartoons on the TV in their bedroom.

"Jacob, I asked you a question and you answered with a question. What are you _not_ telling me?"

He shook his head and the fantasy dissolved for the moment as he tried to use his supposedly superior Alpha intelligence to avoid telling Bella the truth about the ... dog, "It's … uhh … a stray that Seth found ... wandering on the beach. Looks like a Labrador or a Golden Retriever."

"Nah, that's a Goberian," Quil gigglesnorted.

Bella narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, "What the hell is a Goberian?!"

"You see, Bells, you get a Golden Retriever to fuck a Siberian Husky-"

"Quil!" Jake roared.

"What?" Quil's face smoothed to a bland blankness in mock innocence.

"There are … ladies present," Jake said peevishly, scuffing his foot against the nick in the linoleum.

Quil snorted again, muttering under his breath to Embry, "'Ladies', my ass. Those two swear more than the rest of the pack combined."

"Besides, it's clearly not a Goberian," Embry chimed in helpfully.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jake collapsed in a chair, rubbing a hand over his face in resignation.

"Well? What is it?" Bella demanded.

"It's a Goldendoodle," Embry said certainly. "You can tell because it's a male dog that looks like it has an ugly, shaggy perm. Might as well be a chick. No balls!" Embry grinned.

"No balls!" Quil called out in response, doubled over laughing and clutching his stomach.

Bella was baffled and becoming angrier by the second. She hissed at Jake and his idiotic back-up singers, "You're lying about something. I don't know what it is, but I _will_ find out and there _will_ be hell to pay."

She shooed the dog away from her leg where he was unashamedly rubbing himself in a bid to get on her good side.

Waving at Jake to come corral the Doodlerian or whatever the hell it was, she insisted, "Get it out of my kitchen. You don't have to take it to the pound, but it can't stay here. I've got enough dogs coming and going at all hours of the day and night. Find somebody here on the rez to take it, but make it clear he needs to have his shots and be de-wormed and flea-dipped, too, just to be safe. And for god's sake, get him fixed if he's not already. The last thing we need is that thing running around, humping everything that catches his eye and leaving us with dozens of puppies to deal with."

All three men winced, but eventually Quil and Embry snickered, trying not to catch Bella's attention, whispering to each other like twelve year olds trying to hide a porno mag at her dinner table.

Jake got down to eye-level with the dog, "Sorry, dude. She runs the show. No balls for you." He stood up, "Let's go do this before … ahh … well, we shouldn't waste time." He winked at Leah and she tried not to laugh out loud.

The dog whined and tried to hide behind Bella.

She rolled her eyes, admonishing her mate, "Oh, honestly, you're scaring him." She patted his head in a soothing gesture meant to comfort as she said words that sent a shiver down the dog's spine, "It'll be fine. You'll go to sleep and when you wake up, it'll all be over. You can screw all the hot, stray bitches you want."

His eyes widened in fear as he backed away from her, turning and scrambling across the linoleum, claws scrabbling and clacking, making a break for the door as Jake, Embry, and Quil tore off after him, laughing their asses off, "Aw, come on, pup! You heard Bella-you'll get to fuck _all_ the bitches!"

"So ... what did he do to piss off Old Quil?"

Leah started at Bella's question, unsure how to answer without selling out her Alpha, "Uhh... What do you mean?"

Bella turned around and pinned Leah with a knowing smirk and a twinkle in her eye. Wiping her hands on her apron, she said nonchalantly, "I don't know why Old Quil did it or how it's even possible, but I do know one thing for certain-Tweedle Dee, Dumb, and Dumber are _never_ going to catch Mike Newton now that he thinks he might lose his nuts if he hangs around here. He must have really shit in the old man's Cheerios for him to turn Mike into a Golden Retriever."

* * *

><p><strong>EN:** _So ... yeah, this isn't even the END of this one-shot. ;) Lots more shenanigans on the horizon! But I REALLY have to finish beta-ing a chapter for a friend before I put any more time into the one-shot, so look for the one-shot, "Drop the Mike" in a few days. I'd love to hear what you think!_


	29. Origin, JacobBella

**Pairing:** Bella(/Jacob) & Ephraim

**Rating:** M, for Jacob's brief, naughty thoughts

**Genre:** science fiction

**Length:** flashfic

**Prompt: **"Don't accept rides from strangers"**  
><strong>

**Origin**

Bella tossed and turned a little, unable at first to settle enough to drop off to sleep despite being surrounded by heavy guard. Jake and Embry lay side-by-side on the floor, unconsciously curling around each other in sleep like puppies in a pile. Leah shared the queen size bed with her, automatically adjusting to having a sleeping partner by snuggling and sharing her warmth.

The heat brought her comfort even when the sleep she craved eluded her.

"Bells," Jake admonished, his voice groggy and thick with sleep, "stop thinking so loud. Relax, baby. The redhead is toast if she comes anywhere near you." His huge warm hand closed around hers, the index finger gliding up over her thumb to stroke her wrist, inadvertently touching her aching scar from James.

She hissed and pulled back.

His eyes brimming with apologies, Jake sat up and pulled her into his lap. Holding her arm up to inspect the sore, reddened skin, he asked, "How long has it been like this?"

"Since the first time we kissed. It's been getting a little worse lately, though," she admitted.

"You- you're allergic to me?"

"No! Oh, gosh, Jake, no, not at all. I spoke to Old Quil when I first noticed it. He thinks…" she smirked a little, her cheeks going pink with pleasure, "He thinks, from the kissing, some of your cells may have, like, begun seeking out the traces of venom under the skin, acting like a second super immune system to help remove it from my body. It's not bad. It's just sensitive."

"You're sure?" he watched her carefully for any sign that she was being less than truthful, but found none.

"I promise," she assured him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

He answered with smacking kisses all over her face, down her neck, over her shoulder, trailing down her arm. Cautiously, he pressed delicate kisses all around her scar and a heated one to her palm where he parted his lips slightly and flicked the tip of his tongue across her lifeline.

What she didn't know and he'd never admit was that he could taste her arousal from when she'd been alone in the shower earlier in the day. He ached to bury himself in the center of that enticing, delicious heat, but it would have to wait.

This was hardly the time.

Tucking her into his lap, he rolled on his side, tapping Embry and giving him an Alpha command so quiet and unobtrusive, she was sure Embry hadn't even woken up when he'd risen from the hastily made up bed on the floor and climbed onto Bella's bed beside Leah.

"Sleep," Jake insisted, lacing the word with the same benign Alpha compulsion that Bella couldn't help but respond to.

When she opened her eyes sometime later, she had no recollection of falling asleep, no memory of dropping off gradually in the safety of Jacob's arms.

Her eyes simply popped open and she found herself standing in a darkened void of greys and deep violets.

"Hello…" she called out.

"Young one," a deep bass returned, seconds before a shadowy form began to emerge from the void.

It was a man, tall like the boys from the pack, with long, inky black hair and deep bronze skin, lined with age.

But it was his smile that ultimately put her at ease.

She didn't know this stranger, but she felt like she should…

"The young Alpha, Jacob, that's why I look familiar to you," he said with a smile.

"Yes, I swear, you look just like his great-grandfather-"

"Ephraim, yes," he said, pleased to be recognized.

"Oh!" her hands fluttered nervously and she brushed them over her hair and down her- camisole and PJ shorts…?

That wasn't right.

"I … borrowed your consciousness from the dream state. We need to travel and Earthly bodies are a hindrance here," he explained.

_Well, that clears that up,_ she thought. _I must be dreaming._

Ephraim grinned as if he could hear her thoughts, but kept his counsel, turning her into his arms, "Hold tight. Don't let go. You don't have the experience to spirit-walk alone."

That seemed like a fair assessment, so Bella closed her eyes and held on for dear life-just in case.

No point taking chances, after all.

"We're here," Ephraim said, patting her back-a sign that all was well.

But when she opened her eyes, she realized that couldn't be farther from the truth.

The precipice on which they stood could only be described as otherworldly.

"Because it is, child," Ephraim agreed, turning away to take in the vast expanse that spilled out before them.

Creeping close to him to worm her way back into the comfort of his embrace in this alien and frankly terrifying place, she asked, "Where are we?"

"The origin. This is where the Cold Ones come from-their venom, at least. On Earth, it acts as a parasite, invading human bodies, crystallizing and killing them to propagate. This," he spread his hands out to indicate the scene that lay before them, "is its natural habitat. This planet evolved to sustain the venomous creatures that inhabit it. Look about. See if you can spot them."

The land was a rich red, like Virginia clay and blades that looked like grass grew, blanketing the meadow in which they stood, but the grass wasn't green like it was at home. It was a deep burgundy-almost black. Trees and shrubs grew in profusion, their trunks and branches a shining, silvery grey, their leaves the same deep burgundy as the grass. In fact, everything that ought to be green back home grew in a shade of deep red here. The sky, however, was an eerie shade of electric green. Light pink and purple ribbons of light danced across the horizon as she watched.

Nearby, web-like crystalline entities of all sizes moved, free-floating, across the planet's lush and vibrant burgundy landscape. Trees and bushes growing fruits and flowers unlike anything Bella had ever seen blanketed the open spaces and rolling hills. The low-hanging fruit, ripe and juicy, grew heavy on every branch in thick bunches, their sweet aroma carried in an ebb and flow on the breeze.

Bella was tempted to help herself so enticing was its delicious perfume.

"No," Ephraim warned. "It is not meant for our kind."

"But it looks so good. _One_ couldn't hurt, could it? This place, it's a paradise. The fruit practically begs to be eaten here," she said with all the bravery and adventurous spirit for which she was known.

These qualities ultimately pleased Ephraim, pushing him to indulge her curiosity-if only for a moment.

"It is not fruit as you know it, child. Go ahead. There," he pointed to a bulbous fruit nearly the size of a small melon. She plucked it from the tree, the red juice within so ripe, it seeped and dribbled from the broken stem as she turned it to pull it free.

Returning to Ephraim's side, she held it up and asked, "How do you eat it?"

"Here," he offered her his knife, an ancient-looking dagger made of whale bone, the handle a delicate work of scrimshaw art. On it, the legend of the Protectors was carved in painstaking detail.

It felt wrong, using such a beautiful artifact as a fruit knife, but it was all that Ephraim had to offer her in this place and she didn't want to be rude by changing her mind to avoid using his beautiful knife.

Taking the tool from his warm hand, she set the fruit on a dark, flat rock nearby, kneeling beside it. She decided to cut it like she would any small melon back home.

With the first slice, she finally understood Ephraim's warning.

The fruit, rather than its halves parting with a delicious thunk, tore like flesh rent from bone. The juice was not juice, but blood.

The coppery tang of it tinged the air with a bitterness that made her throat ache.

This fruit was no seed waiting to drop to grow another tree. It was part of a living organism-the tree connected to the planet. She had separated it from the source, but there was no mistaking it-this fruit confirmed the horrible, fascinating truth.

Venom originated, in fact, _thrived_ here because the planet offered in abundance that rare treasure that venom constantly sought out on Earth-blood.

Rising to her feet and turning about with eyes opened to this new truth, Bella finally _saw_, rather than just looking around like a tourist with a map and camera hanging around her neck.

This planet, this paradise, veritably _pulsed_ with life because it pulsed _with blood_.

Bella felt faint, her knees buckling before Ephraim swept her up in a grandfatherly hug.

_Note to self, Swan; don't accept rides through space/time from strangers just because they know Jake._

Rich and red and oxygenated, the blood gave life to everything here, including the bizarre free-floating crystalline entities that stopped occasionally-not to wait for the wind to pick up and carry them away as she thought at first glance, but to stop to _feed_ as they bumped and latched onto the ripe fruits, long slick tentacular appendages snicking wetly into the fruit with a near-silent, but sickening piercing of the skin.

Ephraim turned to her, "You had to see this to truly understand just how alien the substance is, how difficult is the task to remove it from our lands. Only _you_ are capable of doing so. You, young one, are humanity's greatest gift and most formidable weapon; you are a human who is immune to both vampire gifts and venom itself." He touched the inflamed scar at her wrist by way of explanation. "All the things that have happened to you were guided by the Spirits, the Protectors of Earth. They led you where you were needed to become who and what you are. They gave you a pack of your own Protectors and an entire coven full of powerful and well-respected Cold Ones to keep you safe until you came into your own."

Then he dropped the bomb.

"There exists within you the ability to neutralize venom."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Thanks to CayStar, BTW, for the prompt that gave me the nudge I needed to finally get this _origin of venom story_ idea 'on paper'. I've been putting it off for way too long.  
><em>


	30. A Month of Sundays, JacobBellaJess

**Pairing:** Jacob/Bella, Jacob/Jess

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Tragedy/Family

**Word-count:** 500

**Prompt: **[a picture of a baby sleeping on a man's shoulder that will be available to view in this same group on Tricky Raven]**  
><strong>

**A Month of Sundays**

Jessica Stanley watched as Jacob finished expertly diapering the squirming bundle on the table. Bringing him up to cuddle in the curve of a shoulder, he dropped the diaper in the little trash contraption by the changing table.

She listened as he murmured to the baby, a story she herself had only heard months earlier when she'd come knocking to give her condolences one Sunday late in May, a Sunday that had changed her life.

Patting the baby's back and rocking gently with a shifting of his weight from foot to foot, Jacob began to speak, "Your mom told me she was having you on a Sunday, you know. The coppertop refused to believe she would do such a thing, demanded his family stay until you were born, insisted she must be wrong, that she'd fallen victim to some native magic." He snorted scornfully. "As if. Like she could be wrong about something like that. The whole pack could scent an Alpha pup from five miles off.

"The stress of ending things with him was tough on your mom. He harassed her constantly, called while she was trying to sleep. She never slept enough. She had a scare early on, around four or five months gone with you, one Sunday evening during a bonfire. We rushed over to the clinic. Sue checked her out, did an ultrasound and there you were, our little boy. Human and perfect, just the way we made you.

"You were born on a Sunday, too, in early May, when the rain is only annoying and not so cold. You were so eager to come into the world, there was no slowing you down. Your mom, Bells, held you and I wrapped my arms around both of you and it was perfect. Everything was perfect," his voice wavered.

"Your mom, she loved you so much, even though she only had you for a little while. She loved you," Jacob's voice shook as his eyes met Jess's for a second and caught the tears spilling over. Cupping one massive hand behind the baby's head, he nuzzled the soft, downy fuzz on top before carrying on. This was always the hardest part.

"Your mom died that Sunday. She just wasn't healing right. Her blood wouldn't clot. We never found out why. There was no time for a transfusion. By the time we realized what was happening, she was already gone. She held you close, kissed you, and that was that."

He wiped his eyes with his free hand.

"A week later, the mind reader came back, standing at the border, shouting as his freakish family tried to hold him back, demanding that we hand you over. He screamed in Sam's face that we owed him vengeance for the death of his mate. He threatened the whole Black family, swearing we would never know peace again as long as he lived.

"The pack gave him his wish. They took him out that Sunday. The Cullens promised to never return."


	31. The Next Generation, JacobBella

**Pairing:** Jacob(/Bella), Eli & Ezra, age 14 (Remember Jake and Bella's twins from my drabble, "If You Can't Beat 'em, Join 'em"? Same twins, same AU, but before their first phase.)

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Family/Drama

**Word Count:** 500

**Prompt: **"You have no clue what you're doing, do you?"**  
><strong>

**The Next Generation**

The sickening sound of flesh pounding flesh rang out loud and clear to the ears of a seasoned wolf as he wrapped up his patrol, heading home. The sound was oddly familiar, which is what drew his attention initially. Then he felt it, the simmering anger that pre-saged the first phase. It wasn't something Jake had ever felt before, taking over his rightful place as Alpha after the rest of the pack had already phased.

Still, he was Alpha. The ache in his chest was visceral and very telling. His wolf knew.

His boys had been displaying the early signs for weeks. Bella was the first to notice. With her heart in her throat and fear in her eyes, she'd come running to him out in the garage after forcibly separating Eli and Ezra during a heated battle over a video game controller. She said they were both burning up, faces red, bodies shaking. Even before she'd left the room, they were after each other again.

He'd rushed into the house just in time to haul them both outside and lock the boys up tight with the restraint of an Alpha order. No one was more surprised than Jake that it worked on pre-phased wolves.

_But not for long, apparently…_

Quil, who had been patrolling with Jake, looking for any sign of the vamps that had incited the fever in the next generation, filled in Embry and Paul as they came on for the next shift. Paul offered to run the lines while Embry ran to join Quil and Jake in case they needed help with the twins.

The three older wolves cautiously approached the clearing behind the Black house.

All of Jake's worst fears were confirmed as the fighting twins came into view. They were hellbent on beating the mad out of each other.

"Eli, Ezra!" Jake barked, phasing out and pulling his shorts on.

"Not now, Dad!" they chorused in unison.

"It's gonna happen anyway," Eli hissed as he caught a fist in the gut.

"Might as well get it over with where we won't hurt Mom," Ezra reasoned through gritted teeth.

"You … you're _trying_ to make each other phase?!" Jake was dumbstruck.

"We've seen Aunt Emily, Dad. We're not stupid," Eli snarled, landing a solid punch to Ezra's sternum.

"Stop! Stop this right now," Jake demanded.

The boys' arms dropped, breath heaving as they stared each other down.

"You have no clue what you're doing, do you?" Jake was more mad at himself for not thinking of it first. Of course they wouldn't want to phase near their mom. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how to do this. He was Alpha. He should know this. "I think we can do this without you killing each other. Look at me."

Staring into their father's golden eyes, their bodies responded instantly to his Alpha order, "**PHASE**."

Two copper and cream wolves appeared, quivering on new legs, the next generation of La Push's wolf pack.


	32. Passing on the Mantle, JacobBella

**Pairing**: Jacob(/Bella), OC (Elijah)

**Rating: **T, just to be safe

**Genre: **family

**Word Count: **500 _(My third or fourth one in a row to hit it on the money. Suck on that, squirrel brain!)_

**A/N:** _I'm baa-aaack... ^_^ And I'm rusty as fuck, obviously. Just trying to get my feet back under me after emergency surgery earlier this month and get my head back in the game._

**Prompts:**

**Quote: "I don't need to be saved"** Prompt #21, from the Weekly Flashfic Challenge on Tricky Raven.

**Song: "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perry** _(I was reading a snarky list the other day about the only good things to come out of the Twilight series and this song was on the list. It was the first time I'd heard it in ages. I wanted to put a little wolf pack spin on it, so y'all get this!)_

**Passing on the Mantle**

Alpha Jacob Black stood on the cliffs overlooking First Beach, reminiscing about times gone by.

A thousand years of time.

The homey scent of family, pup, wafting on the breeze heralded the arrival of Elijah Jacob, his grandson.

Many times over, but his grandson just the same.

"Granddad?"

Jacob turned, a smile lighting his features as he took in the man's face, so much like his own, but a little more mature.

Elijah had never phased.

It was Jacob's greatest accomplishment.

A thousand years after the curse of the Cold Ones had irreparably changed the lives of his pack, they'd continued to phase, every single one of them. Their mates ceased aging with them. With this blessing, they had made the decision together to continue phasing so their curse would never ruin the lives of another Quileute—no childhoods stolen by demons who walked the earth in the guise of men.

They'd had children and their children had made them grandparents, and their children as well.

Thirty generations had come and gone.

Jacob missed his boys, but he wouldn't begrudge them their humanity.

It was a gift he'd been grateful had been his to give.

This most recent grandson of his, though … was as stubborn as Jacob himself had once been.

Jacob knew the children had been having meetings quietly. A group of thirty-four of the pack's descendants had come to a decision.

"You know why I'm here?" EJ asked.

"I have my suspicions," Jacob confirmed.

"It's time to lay down your arms, Granddad. You've carried this burden for so long, I think you've gotten lost in your purpose. Gran—"

"Don't attempt to tell me what my Bella needs, EJ. She knows my mind on this," Jacob growled.

"And I know hers. She'd never questioned your decision, but she deserves to live out her human life and so do you. So do Uncle Embry and Uncle Quil and all the others. Let us help you, Granddad."

"Goddamnit, boy! I don't need to be saved from my wolf! Nor do your aunt and uncles!"

"You have it all backwards, Granddad. It's us, all of us, who don't need to be saved from our destinies. I'm thirty-two years old, twice the age you were when you phased and stopped aging. My children are nearly grown. I understand better than any why you made this choice, except that I have twice as many reasons to phase—my children and you, your pack. You've shouldered this burden for far too long without respite. I don't know why the others never offered, so it's for me to do. I'm your descendant. This is no longer your responsibility. It's time to let us bear that burden, and for you and Gran Bella to go live your lives."

"I only ever wanted to spare my sons this curse."

"And you have. You have your whole lives ahead of you. It's time to pass on the mantle."

"You'll make a good Alpha." Jacob was pleased.

"I'll do my best."

* * *

><p><strong>EN:**_ Thanks for reading and apologies for my long absence!_


	33. Even Angels, JacobBella

**Pairing**: Jacob/Bella

**Rating: **M, fo sho

**Genre:** adult/erotica/voyeurism

**Word Count: **500 - _Another one that hit 500. Ha ha! I think Mel owes me some sort of major award now. I AM THE BREVITY MISTRESS!_

**Origin: **Tricky Raven's Weekly Flashfic Challenge Forum, Prompt #21_  
><em>

**A/N:** _This one was inspired by a comment Iz Perplexing made on a shared copy of a rant I posted on fb earlier today about 50 Shades. I said something about angels rubbing one out under the covers and she said she ships that, so ... I fic'd it. I was cackling as I wrote it. Maybe you'll enjoy it, too. _

**Prompts: **Quote, "I don't need to be saved."

**Even Angels Masturbate**

Jacob's wolf lay nestled in the leaves just beyond the edge of the Swan property, his tail swishing idly through the ferns, enjoying the cool moisture spraying across his back with every flick of a shivering frond.

Bella had gone to bed an hour ago after bidding him good-night and asking him if he'd rather come in and crash in her room. He longed to take her up on her offer, but Sam would have his nuts in a sling if he spent his patrol cuddling up to Bells in the comfort of her warm bed while everyone else ran the shitty night shift in the rain.

He wished her sweet dreams and phased, settling down to keep watch for the redhead that had been harrying the pack for months.

The sound of Bella tossing and turning in bed made him frown. His wolf was equally displeased. The girl needed rest.

Another half hour passed and her restlessness seemed to have finally ceased. He could hear her murmuring quietly in her sleep.

The gentle sounds lulled him into complacency, so much so that he missed it at first when her voice turned more urgent, eventually crying out his name.

He phased, scaling the wall buck naked, swinging through the window and landing lightly on the balls of his feet.

Bella's head was thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream as her back bowed and her hands-

_Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ._

The fingers of one hand mercilessly circled her clit while the first two fingers of the other were buried knuckle-deep inside her.

He pinched his arm and rubbed his eyes just to be sure.

It wasn't a dream.

She was polishing her little pink pearl and moaning _his_ name.

"J- JACOB! What are you doing here?!" she suddenly shrieked, scrambling to hide under the covers.

"I-" His face turned crimson. "I thought you were having a nightmare!"

"Well, you were wrong!" She buried her face in her knees, slick, greasy tendrils of mortification invading her belly, making her sick to her stomach as she groaned, "Oh my god, Jacob. I don't need you to save me from everything. Especially _this_."

"Bells, I didn't- No apology is going to make up for this, I know, but I really _am_ sorry. You already have, like, no privacy because of the leech and the pack. I-" he gulped noisily. "I'll just go."

She whimpered into the covers, unwilling to look at him.

"Bells?" he whispered, risking her wrath as he stepped toward the bed.

"Mmph?" she mumbled against her knees.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I… I think of you, too," he admitted.

She raised her head, glancing up furtively from beneath hooded lids.

"You were beautiful," he confessed. "For a minute there, I was jealous. I wished … I wished it was me making you moan my name like that."

Working up her nerve after hearing his admission, she looked him in the eyes and confessed, "I wished it was you, too."


	34. A Few More Years, OldQuilMolly

**Pairing****:** Old Quil/Molly Ateara

**Rating:** M, for some mild strong language

**Genre:** romance

**Word Count:** 500 - Seriously, no way can anybody give me shit about not being able to hit 500 words.

**Prompt: **Quote, "I don't need to be saved."

**A Few More Years**

"Lord above, what happened this time?" Sue grumbled as the pack barged in. Old Quil was slung between Seth and Embry, bitching up a storm.

"I told you I'm fine. I need to—"

"Sit down and shut your mouth. That's what you need to do," Molly Ateara huffed, shooing the boys out of the way and plumping a pillow for Quil in Harry's old chair.

"He was skateboarding, of all things, with the kids over at the community center again!" She threw her hands in the air. "It's his knee this time. I swear he won't be happy until he breaks both hips and I have to wait on him hand and foot the rest of our lives," she muttered for Sue's benefit.

"Stop your fussing, you old nag. I told you I just need to go phase. Twenty minutes and I'll be right as rain again," he griped, slapping away Sue's hands.

Molly lowered herself to the arm of the chair, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "We've talked about that. You're not a young wolf anymore. You weren't even a young wolf when we met. We don't know if you could survive phasing at your age." She tipped his chin up, gazing lovingly into his eyes as she whispered, "I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me?! Ha! I'm not as old and feeble as you think, woman!"

Young Quil made a noise as if to disagree, but Sue cut him off, "Not now, Quil. Don't you boys have something better to do?"

"No," they answered together, grinning.

Sue sighed. "There's slab pie in the fridge out in the garage. Try to leave a slice for—" There was a stampede to the garage, but at least they were gone. Sue made herself scarce for a few minutes, too.

"Quil?" Molly asked, "What's all this about? All these reckless stunts lately? Is it because of the pack? You miss … running with the wolves?"

"Miss… What? No! I— Damn it, Moll. I'm an old man, forty years your senior. You'll outlive me and that's fine, but … I worry, sweetheart." He cupped her chin, grimacing as he turned in his seat.

"Talk to me," she begged, holding his wrist, rubbing her thumb over the reassuring pulse under his weathered bronze skin.

"If I don't phase soon, I'll continue to age like other men, _human_ men. You're young," he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, "and still so lovely. Too young to be a widow. Too young to spend thirty years alone when I'm gone."

"Oh, Quil," she threw her arms around his neck. "Growing old is part of the human experience. So what if I'm alone for some of it? It's inevitable. One of us will go first. I don't need to be saved from my natural path, but if it puts your mind at ease, go ahead and phase. I won't turn down a few more years."

"Thank you," he breathed, touching his lips to hers.


	35. Good Morning, Stranger, QuilJess

**Pairing:** Quil/Jess

**Rating:** M, to be safe

**Genre:** Humor/Adult

**Word Count:** 500

**Prompts: "**I like candle lit dinners, romantic walks on the beach, and porn." (And a picture of a guy holding a girl in bed.)

* * *

><p><span><strong>Good Morning, Stranger<strong>

Something silky and fine teased his nose and he just couldn't ignore it anymore. Dragging one gritty eye open, Quil took in his surroundings, including the soft little body curved generously into his chest, legs entwined with his.

Naked legs.

This day was already looking up.

Pulling a wispy honey blonde hair from his mouth, Quil noted it was not a color he was familiar with.

He cleared his throat and flexed his hand, squeezing a plump butt cheek, and the girl in his arms jumped.

"Oh!"

He cleared his throat, "So … this isn't awkward, right?"

She leaned back a bit, tipping her pretty face up to meet his eyes.

Her pretty, _unknown_ face.

"Who are you?" they asked together.

Quil chuckled, "I'm Quil, Quil Ateara."

"Oh! You're Bella's cousin, right? Her hot jailbait boyfriend's goofy friend?"

"Goofy?" He flexed his pecs, one at a time, catching her attention.

She grinned appreciatively, pulling her hand (with which she'd been gently and politely cupping his dick upon waking up) from beneath the covers and offering it to him for a friendly handshake, "I'm Jess Stanley, Bella's friend from Forks."

A handshake.

She was adorable.

The next Mrs. Quidel Ateara, the Fifth.

He took the offered hand, touching his lips to her knuckles as he shifted his weight, tucking one muscular thigh between hers and pinning her to the mattress.

"Whoa, there, Skippy." Her eyes widened in surprise. "We don't even know each other!"

"Sure we do. You're Jess, Bella's friend with the bangin' ass from Forks and I'm Quil, her hot cousin from La Push and I like candlelit dinners, romantic walks on the beach, and porn. Your turn!"

Her mouth dropped open.

She was feelin' it. He could tell.

There was a love connection.

She tried to sit up, clearing her throat, "We met at the bonfire…?"

"Course we did," he chirped, pleased she was coming around. "I'm gonna guess you had the moonshine, too."

"Oh, god," she moaned. "_The moonshine._"

"Yeah, my granddad makes it," he said, sliding his hands underneath her again to cup her ass and lower his lips to kiss the space between her breasts.

He breath hitched, a hissing gasp pulled between parted lips begging to be kissed.

So he did, pulling her her bottom lip between his, he sucked it gently, then switched, flicking his hot tongue across the dip in her cupid's bow.

Touching her with just the tip of his nose, he ghosted down the line of her jaw, murmuring into her throat how fucking sexy she was, how amazing she smelled.

When those hot, eager lips closed over the pink tip of a puckered nipple, she arched into his hold and the full length and breadth of his Ateara legacy thumped against her thigh.

"Oh, god! What's his name?" Jess begged, grabbing Quil's head, stuffing his mouth full of soft, perfumed flesh.

"Who?" Quil mumbled around her tit, bewildered.

"Your granddad, so I can send him a thank you card."


	36. Babe, Paul

**Pairing:** Paul/Mystery Woman

**Genre:** Adult

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 100 (My first true 100-word drabble!)

* * *

><p><span><strong>Babe<strong>

Cherry Coke.

Jack Daniels.

Modern Muse.

The scents were new to him, but problematic, too. He relied on scent to trigger the memory of hearing the chick's name, but this time**—**nothing.

Shit.

He turned over in bed**—**her bed.

Taking girls home was _not_ an option. Fuck that shit. He'd never get rid of 'em.

Blonde hair fanned across the pillows**—**didn't look familiar.

He didn't risk the double-tap often. Not worth that clingy shit.

"Hey … babe?" he tried.

"Mmf!" she twisted in the sheets, slitting one eye open. "I have a _name_. You don't remember, do you?"

"Does it matter?"

* * *

><p>~C<p> 


	37. The Last Supper, EmbryLeahJacobBella

**Characters:** Jacob/Bella, Leah/Lone Wolf (Lone Wolf POV)

**Genre:** family/comfort

**Rating:** T (the one-shot will be a strongly-recommended M-rating for intense subject matter)

**Prompt:** "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeren (You'll recognize some of Ed Sheeran's song lyrics sprinkled throughout. I do not own. Props to Sheeran for lyrics that make me weep.)

**THIS IS A SNEAK PEEK OF A LONGER ONE-SHOT.** I was going to wait to post 'til the whole thing is done, but Mel is going to lynch me if I don't give her something to tide her over in the mean time.

* * *

><p><span><strong>The Last Supper<strong>

* * *

><p>He saw Jacob lifting a bottle of beer in the air, the other hand wrapped securely around his Bells as she lifted hers, laughing and clinking their drinks.<p>

But Bella was worried. Nobody worried like Bella. "Jacob, be serious! There's an army of vampires headed our way."

"Relax, honey. The little vamp—the head case—Alice, right? She said she only saw six coming. Six, Bells! We don't even need the Cullens for that fight. Stop borrowing trouble from the future. You'll turn old and grey before your time."

He smiled, his soft spot, an innate kinship with Jacob, deepening as he watched his brother try to placate his worried mate.

"You scare me when you don't take these things seriously." Setting her beer aside, she wrapped her arms behind his neck.

He pretended not to see, but the pack memories couldn't hide the gentle grip of Jacob's hands smoothing over lean flanks, his arousal buffeting in silent petition between her parted thighs.

He flushed, turning his head, refusing to intrude on one of their final private moments.

"What should we do, then, honey? Whether there are six or six hundred of them, there will always be ten of us—"

"Eleven," she interrupted, her face set with determination. "You fight, I fight."

He gave her a look, a 'we'll talk about that later' look, before he continued, "Should we cower and pray for a miracle, honey? Train until we're too exhausted to put up a fight in the morning? Or should we live?" Jacob asked, pressing his lips to hers. "I want to live—live every moment as if it could be our last. If the end comes tonight or tomorrow or in fifty years or a hundred—" He raised his bottle again. "Then may we all die together so we need never know what it's like to live without our brothers."

Running her fingers through his short-cropped hair, Bella kissed him back, taking up her bottle and holding it aloft. She raised her voice and put on a brave face, "If tomorrow ends in fire—"

"We should all burn together," Emily whispered, settling on Sam's knee. She lifted a glass of wine.

Looking down at his own, he remembered it had been empty. Someone had filled it. He looked up, and as memory served, there it was, a refill.

Leah picked up a bottle of wine and two more glasses, carrying them to the table and settling in his lap to the surprised snorts and chuckles of the others.

"What do you say?" she asked. "Wanna party like it's our last night on Earth?"

He smiled, his slow grin spreading like warm molasses in the sun.


	38. BellasPuppy-MistressIsabella-PaulBella

**Pairing:** Bella/Paul

**Genre:** Adult (no intercourse or sex, but D/s could be construed as erotica, so consider yourself warned)

**Rating:** M, obviously

**Word Count:** 500

**Prompt:** Though the quote prompt "The world is a lot bigger than you and me." did technically inspire this one, I did not use it anywhere in the flashfic or the 100-word drabble sequel, Prompt #24, Mistress Isabella".

**A/N: I need to point something about about this scenario. This is not true ritual BDSM play. This is a couple in a loving, consensual relationship, engaging in D/s roleplaying as part of their sex play. True BDSM with a professional Dom/me does not involve sexual intercourse. This is an important distinction. This is a roleplaying fantasy fic.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Bella's Puppy<strong>

* * *

><p>Paul sat back on his heels, his burnished skin sheened with sweat, limbs shaking with the effort it took to hold the subservient pose—arms bent, hands zip-tied behind his head.<p>

Bella circled him, her red latex catsuit and black leather boots hugging every luscious curve like second skin. She clutched a riding crop, her knuckles white on the grip as she turned it in her hand, smacking the tip into her other palm with a snap.

Paul flinched.

Fuck, but she had him on edge with this teasing shit today.

Stalking the room in a tight circle, she allowed him to watch the sinuous and deliberate movement of her boots as instep caressed curvy calf with every footfall, each measured step calculated and tortuously slow in sinful, artful choreography.

Paul whimpered behind his gag.

The telltale sound of the familiar spring hook clicking into place made his muscles go lax momentarily.

The sharp sting of her riding crop on bare cheek brought him back to attention seconds before she choked up on the leash, pulling his chin up, forcing him to all but close his eyes to avoid looking at her without express permission.

"You may look at me, Puppy. I want to see your eyes."

He obeyed, gazing at her, pleading with his eyes to allow him to speak.

Her expression never softened, but he saw the curiosity there.

"You may speak, Puppy." She yanked the gag from his mouth, but kept the riding crop under his chin for leverage. She loved to see him strain to hold his position, the sweat pouring down his throat and broad chest in rivers of proof of his desire to please.

"Mistress Isabella…" He dropped his eyes to her boots, desperate to ask for permission, but it was always a crap-shoot. She may be pleased that he sought to give her pleasure or she may be disappointed that he asked to give her pleasure, it depended on her mood. His only goal was to please, though, so he judged it worth the risk.

"May I…" He swallowed convulsively, glancing down at the riding crop before it fell away from view and she circled behind him, dropping into a deep squat. He felt the pulsing heat of her sex against his hip as she dragged the tip of the crop down the slope of his spine, curved in supplication.

It took all his willpower not to jerk away when the tip of the riding crop slid over his bare ass cheek.

She loved his ass.

Almost too much at times.

Her breath at his ear was hot when she asked, "You want to lick me, Puppy? You know how I feel about asking for pleasure."

"Not my own," he insisted, shaking his head. "Yours, always yours."

She stood, hooking one long, lean leg over his shoulder. Planting the heel of her boot on the floor between his thighs, she nudged his cock and he moaned.

"You may begin by licking my boots, Puppy."

* * *

><p><em>The follow-up 100-word drabble sequel follows below.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count:<strong> 100

* * *

><p><span><strong>Mistress Isabella<strong>

_a drabble follow-up to Prompt #24, Bella's Puppy_

* * *

><p>The pack mind blew up in a mushroom cloud of lust as Paul recounted the memory of role-playing with his usually shy and quiet mate.<p>

Embry's wolf's eyes bulged, "_Why is Bella dressed like Britney Spears?_"

"_Fuck that._" Jared rumbled. "_Britney Spears __wishes__ she looked that fuck-hot in red latex._"

"_We're supposed to be having a pack meeting,_" Sam whined, trying to restore order.

"_Shut up, Sam!_" Quil was nearly hysterical. "_Don't ruin this for me! Brothers don't do that._"

"_She enjoys that?_" Jake hissed, furious. "_Playing your sick games?_"

"_Are you kidding? It was her idea,_" Paul said, chuckling.

* * *

><p><em><strong>EN:** If you haven't heard yet, meliz875 and I recently published a one-shot collaboration called "Brothers". It is markedly different than my usual erotic and science fiction fare. The genre is labeled as 'Family/Tragedy' for a reason. Heed the warning and arm yourself with tissues before you track it down to read on my profile._

_I have another one-shot that I may be posting later tonight as well. LOTS of new reading material coming out in the next few weeks!_


	39. Note for Readers

Regular readers of "Every Dog Has Its Day" may be interested to read my Paul Lahote drabbles for The Twilight Twenty-Five Challenge. They're posted as a collection here on FFn and over on TR under the story name "Attrition".

Enjoy!

- ChrissiHR


	40. Border Moon, JacobBellaEmbryLeah

**Pairing:** Bella/Jacob as Lady Isabella Swan of Forks-upon-Sol-Duc/Laird Jacob Dubhconall*, Earl of Clan Conall

**Genre:** Historical Romance/Adventure/OOC

**Rating:** T

**Word Count:** 575 (This a sneak peek from a possible future project rather than the usual flashfics.)

**A/N: **I'd planned to discontinue this collection altogether on FFn, but I got a few lovely notes from readers after I made that decision, so I decided to keep using this collection on FFn for flashfic-length sneak peeks and maybe a few other things, but the few flashfics or drabbles that I write will still be published primarily to Tricky Raven in the story collection by the same name, "Every Dog Has Its Day". If you want updates on those, look me up on Twitter ChrissiHR.

This little story is inspired by several things of late; re-reading some old favorite romance novels that I haven't picked up in years, reading a Scottish historical romance fan fic or two, and a certain someone's obsession with fine-ass men in kilts and Outlander - which I don't even get to watch because we don't get Starz here!

**Prompt: **"Another month gone and still no..."

* * *

><p><span><strong>Border Moon<strong>

* * *

><p>The bright light of the full moon shown down through the thick canopy of leaves above the earl's hunting lodge, casting its silvery glow across the landscape, painted in all the fiery shades of autumn. T'was a border moon, as Jacob once told her, when, in times gone by, the clans along the border would go raiding the English along <em>their<em> border.

Harrying them at every turn, the Scots had even stolen their women.

T'was said Bella's own great-aunt Molly fell victim to such a raid, spirited away in the night before her wedding day, never to be heard from again. They never found her captors.

Bella had never given much credence to the tale, until now.

She snorted, then covered her mouth at the unladylike sound.

T'would seem that the custom of bride-stealing was alive and well on the borders. A slow, secret smile curved her lips.

Her young earl had been patient and his father, The Duke of Alpha, as well—begging her father to reconsider the betrothal agreement made with the Duke of Cullen when Lady Bella was still a babe in arms.

But the marquess would not be moved.

Her father, Charles, the Marquess of Forks-upon-Sol-Duc, took his duties to crown and country very seriously. Having made the betrothal agreement with the king's favorite, Lord Cullen, upon the request of the king himself, nothing could make him go back on his word.

For a month, The Duke of Alpha had tried to reason with her father, but the Marquess was determined that the Lady Isabella would marry into England. He refused to lose her to the wilds of Scotland like her long-lamented great-aunt.

Another month gone by after that and still no progress made, the young earl had taken measures into his own hands, kidnapping his childhood friend and sweetheart and spiriting her away by the light of the border moon.

Lady Bella wasn't an overly fanciful sort, being raised by servants and a strict French governess at Swan Court, but Jacob's— _t__he earl's_ actions did have a certain romance to them that she could appreciate.

Looking down at her dusty and mud-splattered riding breeches, she sighed, wishing not for the first time he'd done a wee bit of planning ahead.

She'd have given anything for a hot bath and clean gown after the long, hard ride the last two days to the earl's hunting lodge.

He was ever a heedless sort, brash and rushing into things. His patience over her betrothal had surprised his father, she knew. Little did the duke know that Jacob had been planning to kidnap her if the marquess refused to cooperate.

T'was a sin to let a beautiful woman get away from a Scotsman, he swore, especially one with so steady a hand with the horses.

Jacob delighted in Bella's mystifying communion with the horses, watching in rapt attention for hours as she easily broke and trained the wildest of steeds, coaxing them until she had them literally eating from the palm of her dainty hands.

She need never fear Jacob was after her inheritance. His interest lie somewhere between her soft thighs, plump lips, and her skill with the horses.

But mostly the horses.

Her smile broadened. She hoped he never changed.

At the sound of a rap on the bedchamber door, she dashed the grin away, hiding all traces of humor at the situation she currently found herself in and her eager paramour's latest antics.

* * *

><p><em>*dubhconall; dubh = Scots Gaelic for 'black', conall = Scots Gaelic for 'strong wolf'<em>

* * *

><p><strong>EN:**_ I've been in the mood for something wildly non-fanon for a while now - not that I don't love fanon characters, but I don't want to get bored either. I've been chewing on this one for a quite a while. I'm curious to hear your thoughts. _

_Guest reviewers, please understand that though readers may leave feedback as a guest and I very much look forward to reading those reviews as well, I moderate all guest messages and I am under no obligation to publish a review from a reader who isn't willing to sign their name to a nasty, flaming comment. Constructive criticism is always welcome, however, if it's worded politely and respectfully as constructive criticism rather than a litany of personal insults couched in phrases meant to sound as if they're legitimate criticism. I will treat anyone with respect who accords me the same respect. T_his is the first and only time I will address this issue.__


	41. Shades of Pink, EmbryBella

**Title:** Shades of Pink

**Pairing:** Embry/Bella

**Genre:** Adult/Erotica

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 500

**Prompt:** "It's been two months."

* * *

><p><span><strong>Shades of Pink<strong>

* * *

><p>"Enough!" Jacob shouted down the pack and Embry's protests. "It's been two months. Every time you phase, she's all we see. We can't think, can't work, and sure as shit can't concentrate. We took a vote. You're off patrol til you get your shit together, starting with some R&amp;R." He shoved a backpack into Embry's arms and frog-marched him down the hall.<p>

"You lying fuckers! Is this why we had to have the meeting at my house?" Embry lashed out-proof positive he'd flipped his shit, drawing him up short. He never lashed out.

Hugging the bag to his chest, he reined it in, casting a contrite grimace at his best friend. When Jake caught his eye, Embry inclined his head in apology and followed in silence.

"We know you miss her," Jake began, halting outside Embry's bedroom. "Call her, get some rest, get your act together. You're no good to anyone like this."

He swallowed, shame welling in his throat.

"Just call her," Jake ordered, shoving him towards the bed and his phone on the nightstand. At the tell-tale click, he turned to look at the closed door.

Why would Jake lock the door for him?

_Ding!_

He checked his texts.

_Bella…_

_._

**'Did he give you the bag?'**

**.**

**'How did... Wait.'**

**'Are you in on this?'**

**.**

**'Maybe. You alone?'**

**.**

**'Yeah.'**

**.**

**'See the laptop on your bed?'**

**.**

**'Yeah… I like where this is going.'**

**.**

**'Just you wait. ;) Open the laptop.'**

**.**

Setting the phone aside, he tripped over the bag as it slid to his feet. He thumbed the catch, prying the laptop wide.

"Hi." A petite vision in pale pink on the other end of a Skype chat waved, blushing three shades darker than the frothy pink lace hugging her curves.

"Bee?" His heart stuttered.

"I'm sorry I'm stuck in Seattle. Jake said things have been kinda … _rough_ back home."

He really did choke that time. "Was this _Jake's_ idea?" His eyes bugged out.

Bella gagged. "Oh my god! Ew! _No!_ … My roommate's." She clasped her hands together and rocked side-to-side, eyes glued to the floor in a nervous gesture he loved and missed as much as he missed her.

Clearing his throat, he climbed onto the bed. The tension ebbed as he heard the pack clear out and he steeled himself to boldly go where neither of them had been before. "So … we're really doing this?"

She nodded, stepping around to focus the camera on the bed on her end.

Crawling into bed, she giggled when he groaned at the sight of her perky butt swaying in panties that covered little and promised everything.

"Open the bag, Embry," she reminded him, curling up on her side, facing the camera.

He scrambled to obey, spilling its contents across the bed.

"What the hell?" he gaped at his girlfriend. "There's a bottle of lube in this bag… _Just_ lube."

Pushing filmy lace aside, she asked, "Do you require instructions, too?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

_*chucks a guy and a tube of lube in a room*_

_*gets a story*_

_*spikes the smut ball*_

_*runs a victory lap*_

_I have no idea if anyone is still reading this. I've had TERRIBLE writer's block. I'm just writing ANYTHING right now to try to bust it the hell up and get over it. If you're into the flashfics, leave me some love. I could use some encouragement._


	42. Heartsick, EmbryBella

**Title:** _Heartsick (NOT a continuation of the previous flashfic)_

**Pairing:**_ Embry/Bella (ages 13/14-ish)_

**Genre:** _romance/hurt/comfort_

**Rating:** _T_

**Word Count:** _500_

**Prompt:**_ "It's been two months."_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Heartsick<strong>

* * *

><p>The soft <em>shush-shush<em> of footsteps in sand forced Embry deeper into hiding.

_It's not hiding if I need a little peace and quiet,_ he reminded himself.

The footsteps stopped yards away and his shoulders hunched against the inevitable ambush Quil and Jake set up to intrude on his much needed solitude.

"Embry?"

Tormented, he closed his eyes.

_Now,_ he thought, _I'm hallucinating, especially when Quil's voice passes for Bella's._

He shook his head.

Resigned to his former best friends' guerilla tactics, he tucked the sketchbook into his chest and waited, head lowered. Anger and anxiety dueled in his belly. His head felt light and his anger burned hot. Why couldn't they just leave him _alone_?

"Embry, is that you?"

_That voice…_ Raising his eyes to prove his psyche wrong, deep pools of amber honey and acres of silken curls framed the face that haunted his dreams and infiltrated every piece of paper, margin, and doodle his pencil touched since the end of her visit four months earlier.

_Bella…_

"Jake said you were brooding, but I thought he was _joking_. Why are you down here all by yourself? The bonfire—"

"Jake and Quil are at the bonfire," he snapped.

"And that's a problem?" She settled on her knees.

"We haven't been…" He groaned in frustration. She wouldn't understand!

"You don't play with Jake and Quil anymore?" Concerned, caring hands covered his.

"We're a little old to play—don't you think?" He gritted his teeth against the urge to growl. It wasn't Bella's fault.

Her voice wavered, "Are you mad at _me_?"

"What? No…" Dropping the sketchbook, he gripped her hands. "Things have been strained between us for a while."

"Jake mentioned—" She cleared her throat. "Well…" —an audible swallow— "He said you— It was—"

Uncomfortable, they both fidgeted, staring holes in their laps.

"I missed you," Embry blurted out.

_Oh, good job, dumbass._

Dropping her hands, he cradled his head and mumbled, "Sorry. Not your fault. It's— You came home. I wasn't here. You were here in October. Jake —_ugghhh!_— knew you were coming and I was visiting my grandparents up in Neah Bay. When I got home and found out—"

"They kept it from you? _Me…_?"

"Jake," he sneered. "Quil is Jake's minion, as usual, and you're Jake's, too, right?" He clutched at the back of his neck and tucked his chin deep against his chest, chewing on his lips to keep his traitor mouth from leaking the whimpers tickling the back of his throat.

Her sigh brushed across the throb of raw nerves and tender feelings. He almost lost it when she confessed, "I missed you, too, you know. It was a long weekend. Jake's hormones make him—"

"Yeah, I get that."

"I really missed you," she murmured, shifting to lean against his side. She waited.

He raised his arm and hugged her close, her nearness snuffing his longing like a cool hand to fevered brow.

When her lips touched his, he felt like _he_ was the one coming home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Still working on my heinous writer's block issues. Blerg. At least Embry is being kind. Do the same for me, if you're enjoying these drabbles. Not kidding when I say your reviews keep me motivated. I'm actually working on COMPLETING one of the MCs I have on hiatus in my spare time. I'm hoping these flashfics help me work out some of the kinks. If you're looking forward to seeing more on one of my incomplete MCs, too, lemme know!_


	43. Out of Uniform, BellaQuilPaulEmbry

**A/N:** _Hi everyone! I know, I know. I never call; I never write anymore... But **here I am**, and with a purpose! I wanted to let you all know I'm one of 20 authors, 6 artists, and 3 collab teams up on the auction block to write a one-shot for my lucky winning bidder in Tricky Raven's 3rd Annual Silent Auction Fundraiser! I'm on the block as both a writer of an individual author one-shot and a member of a collab one-shot up for auction with my writing partner and BFF, meliz875._

_Here's how it works; you make a generous donation to help Tricky Raven stay open for another year, you email a copy of your receipt to the tricky raven admin email address listed in the auction forum on the site along with a list of your top three author/artist/collab picks-any combination of the three! It's a silent auction and bids are donations first and foremost, so if your bid is highest for one of the author(s) of your choice on the list you submit with your donation receipt, they'll write you a one-shot inspired by your idea as a thank you for your generous contribution! If you're over 18, come check it out!_

* * *

><p><strong>Characters:<strong> Bella, Quil, Paul, Embry

**Genre:** smut, god help you

**Rating:** M, and three Hail Marys, you dirty perverts ;)

**Word Count:** 500

**Prompt: **"It's a kilt, dumbass. It's only a skirt if I'm wearing underwear."

* * *

><p><strong>Out of Uniform<strong>

* * *

><p>One rainy day, Charlie Swan reached the end of his tether and snapped, but who could blame him? After the Cullens left, Bella changed. Drinking, drugs, out all night-she rebelled, punishing herself and antagonizing her dad, unwilling to face her grief.<p>

So off Bella Swan went to Catholic school, with the nuns and the other bad girls.

Quil tapped his fingers on top of the steering wheel. He had one job to do-get Bella home without her giving him the slip.

He was supposed to go alone, but Paul scented the nervousness and arousal pouring off Quil in waves, coming to the only logical conclusion-Quil had bad girls dressed up like good girls on the brain. He reeked of desperation.

Lahote's grin made Quil jumpy as they sat in the pick-up line. Scanning the crowd, Quil prayed, desperate she'd cooperate this once, but Paul got bored waiting.

Besides-all-girls school? Easy pickings.

But when he stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, the unmistakable scent of horny Swan nearly bowled him over.

Turning to the car, he barked, "Be right back. Gonna see where she's at." The protest died on Quil's lips as Paul stalked around the side of the main building, sidling through thick foliage to a small prayer alcove, overgrown and long-forgotten by the school's inhabitants.

A small altar erected at one end with a high rear wall provided camouflage for the couple. Heavy breaths betrayed them, even without werewolf senses. Paul crept along the retaining wall. He knew that scent, almost as well as Swan kitty…

Feeling like a creeper and giving no fucks, Paul put his back to a tree and chanced a quick look.

Bella Swan bent at the waist, hands spread over brick as her skirt slid up over eager hands.

"You should wear these all the time," a raspy male voice carried in the enclosed space.

"Wear what?" the girl panted, dragging his hand to show him the difference between a kilt and a skirt.

"Fuck!" he groaned, leaning over her. "Your ride is going to be here any second."

"So don't waste time," she demanded, sliding a hand between her legs to stroke his length. Positioning him at her entrance, she waited for him to take over.

He rose as her back bowed and she scrabbled at the wall for balance, grunting, "Fuck… Yeah. Just like that."

Tempted to tug one out while he watched, Paul thought better of it and kept his distance until the pair picked up speed and volume.

With a tight grip on her hip, the guy's face stayed in shadow as he thrust, one hand braced on the wall above her head, cushioning her forehead from impact.

When she came apart in his arms, he stroked her through two more with skilled fingers. Breathing into the space between her shoulder blades, he kissed her, his face contorting in mindless pain-pleasure as he called out, "_Fuck!_ Fuck … yes…" He panted, murmuring her name, _"Bella…"_

_"Embry…"_

* * *

><p><strong>EN:** _Want to read more of something like this? Have an idea for something like this you'd love to see turned into a one-shot? Head over to Tricky Raven and make a donation, then place your bid!_


	44. Fckin Hipsters, CharlieJacobBella

Have you joined Tricky Raven yet? Because Tricky Raven recently flung open its doors to a BUNCH of fun **new fandoms** in addition to Twilight wolf pack fic! **Marvel**, **DC**, **Supernatural**, **Once Upon a Time**, **Teen Wolf**, **The Originals**, **True Blood**, **The Vampire Diaries**, and **crossovers**, too! The only requirement for crossovers is that ONE HALF of the crossover must be Twilight. AND many of the **Twilight vampires are now allowed on Tricky Raven, too**! And our annual Halloween contest is coming soon!

Want to join Tricky Raven? Are you over 18? Do you read or write fanfiction? Check out the link on my profile page and go sign up! Be sure to mention my name, ChrissiHR, on the form where it asks how you heard about Tricky Raven. Hope to see you there! *mwah*

On a related note, my writing partner, meliz875, and I are working on a collab called Contact. At present, it can ONLY be found on Tricky Raven. If you'd like to read it as it progresses, you can find the first few chapters posted on Tricky Raven right now. More to come soon!

* * *

><p>Title: <strong>F*ckin' Hipsters<strong>

Fandom: **TwiHW**

Characters/Pairing: **Charlie, Bella/Jacob, the pack**

Rating: **M, because Charlie has a filthy mouth in his head**

Genre: **humor**

Word Count: **500**

Prompt: **fish spankin' pic, JLo's fine ass, apple bourbon**

**A/N:** _I'll be honest, I'm pretty drunk, but this seemed like an awesome idea halfway through that third apple bourbon hot toddy I made. If an apple a day is good for you, four apple bourbon hot toddies are the nectar of the gods. So sayeth Chrissi. Go getcha some drunk Charlie! Mrow! *claws air like a sassy lioness*_

✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫

Waves licked the edges of Charlie's flat-bottomed oasis on ol' Lake Ozette.

Charlie came out here when he needed to think.

Or pretend not to notice things.

He was happier not noticing things, a trait that drove his ex-wife away. Fortunately, the chief's daughter was not her mother. Bella preferred an oblivious parent and Charlie was happy to oblige.

Because Bella had peculiar tastes. Not peculiar tastes like dying her hair with dry-aged monkey shit and piercing her elbows like one o' them hipsters. More like _peculiar_ tastes. Like dating that Edwin twerp with the piss-yellow eyes and dirty hair.

But they didn't talk about that, Charlie and his baby girl. Nope!

And they didn't talk about what she did when when Bella started spending so much time down to Jacob's garage.

No, indeed.

Charlie did not want to know why all those kids on the rez kept getting picked up for indecent exposure. Runnin' around in the woods barefoot, butt-goddamn-naked, balls swingin' free and wild like horny billy goats all over hellingone.

Some things you just couldn't un-see.

And he didn't care why Clearwater's kid kept flashing him her bare ass every time she bent over in one of those muddy dresses she pretended to wear. Didn't anyone wear good old fashioned panties these days?

Or any panties at all?

And he absolutely _did not_ want to know why he caught young Quil naked in the woods behind his house with that Paul fella. Charlie didn't figure Paul for that kinda guy, to be honest, but … to each his own. Charlie lifted his Vitamin R in salute and drained it.

He saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. Nothing to be concerned about, though. After all, it was his idea to bring Bella, Jake, and their friends out here for a camping weekend. Billy slept late, but Charlie was up at dawn as usual, picking his way through a mass of sweaty bodies and naked asses outside his tent, grateful Bella had the good sense god gave little apples to sleep _inside_ her tent, at the very least.

Covered from neck to knees by Jacob, he assumed.

Which is how Charlie found _his_ fine ass out on this boat, cross-eyed drunk, not the least bit concerned when his daughter's lily-white ass peeked through the foliage as a darker, bigger ass wove in and out of the old growth spruce.

Naked tree-tag.

Charlie snorted. Still not the weirdest thing he'd _not_ noticed lately.

Not that he wanted to dwell, but he couldn't help but wonder, just a little … what the thirty yards of paracord strung all over Bella's headboard and the thawed fish on her nightstand had to do with their sudden interest in native nudism. Not that Charlie cared. No, no… He'd never pry, but that fish… Something about that just seemed disrespectful.

To the fish, you know?

Probably gonna pierce it, bless it, or bury it in the yard.

Fuckin' hipsters.

✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫.¸¸ . ✶*¨*. ¸ .✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨'*✫

_Curious about what Charlie saw? Which part? Let me know in the comments and *just maybe* I'll explain some of this from Jacob or Bella's POV._ ;)


	45. The Centurion, BellaJacobEmbry

**[check out the banner that inspired the story on Tricky Raven in my short story forum, Every Dog Has Its Day!]**

Characters: Bella's teddy, Bella, Jacob, Embry, and all the pack kids and their stuffies, Molly Swan, Old Quil

Rating: K, for now, but the finished one-shot may end with more grown up kids/older teens

Genre: fluff, family, suspense, humor

Prompt: Metallica's "Enter Sandman" and Stevie Nick's "Crystal"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I have this sweet one-shot underway that I started as a showpiece for the theme of this year's anonymous Halloween contest on Tricky Raven, **Nightmares & Dreams**, but I haven't had a chance to really tell you guys about the contest yet! As a Tricky Raven administrator, I'm not allowed to enter the contests, but that doesn't mean I can't write fun Halloween one-shots anyway! :D

**Nightmares & Dreams is Tricky Raven's first ever multi-fandom Halloween contest. We have FOUR Twilight categories and a total of FIFTEEN categories for both authors and artists this year!**

I am so excited to have something to show you guys for Halloween, I just couldn't wait til I was done to give you a peek at what I have in the works for later this month! :D I started this last weekend for the holiday and I'm so in love with this little guy, I just have to share. He won't leave me alone! This is an unbeta'd, totally rough first draft. My writing partner is in the middle of a big move and changing jobs, so I'm on my own for a while yet this month. ;) Please be kind, let me know in the comments if you enjoy it, and I'll be back soon with the rest!

* * *

><p><span><strong>The Centurion, a Halloween One-Shot Preview<strong>

* * *

><p>Molly Swan was born a witch. As was her mother before her. All the Swan women, it was said, were touched with the gift of the Fae.<p>

Her young niece, Bella, had the gifts, too, Molly told the small clutch of creatures crowded onto shelves and crates in her cramped crafting space. In various states of completion or repair, each tiny, patchwork critter waited its turn for her attention. Patiently, they whiled away the days, listening to sweet Molly tell them about their charges.

Not all of the children were born yet, so some of the creatures had a bit of a wait ahead, but Molly knew just when each child would arrive and timed the completion of each loving work of art to coincide with the next child's birth.

The night young Sam came quietly into the world with little fuss and no tears, the squat owl with large eyes carved from driftwood finally took its turn. When he was old enough to speak, little Sammy Uley named his owl Archimedes after the sarcastic and smart-mouthed bird in his favorite animated movie. Molly's lips twitched with amusement the day she returned to her sewing room and informed the cuddled mass of waiting creatures that the first of them had been accepted by his charge, named and claimed forever. Sammy was just two at the time.

Next, the Black twins, Rachel and Rebecca, came into the world in the midst of a late spring snowstorm. Molly laughed joyfully to be caught so off guard. She had no idea there would be twins! Delighted, she took to her sewing room and made a second tiny blue fawn, gifting the girls with their cuddly magical friends during her next visit. At barely one and a half, they dubbed them Flora and Fauna after their favorite cartoon fairies. Old Quil chuckled when they held them up for kisses, but he obliged, whispering a blessing into each ear the same as he had with Sam's owl once upon a time.

The pattern continued. A guardian gift for each child in need of protection.

A graceful, long-necked swan for Leah. A plush, fearless skunk for Jared. A porcupine for prickly Paul whose hot temper sent him wailing with outrage right from the womb into the big, wide world. Molly thought the porcupine quite fitting.

Molly continued her work, creating more childhood guardians for babies to come later. All the while, a special stuffed creature sat in pride of place on the shelf over her sewing machine. Though she added a bit of magic to every gift, the small, golden brown bear was truly a labor of love. Every stitch, deliberate. Every addition chosen with care. A bit of lavender for good dreaming and rosemary for remembrance. A small coin for tribute and a pinch of salt for added protection. Rather than the typical polyfil stuffing and sturdy cotton patchwork, this bear came together from special bits of this and that-a tuft of fur from a bear that gave Harry and Charlie a run for their money, a bit of fluff from Molly and Quil's wedding quilt, a snip of silky satin trim from Sarah Black's handbasket-fabric scraps from a blanket made for the Blacks' longed-for boy who'd yet to make his appearance.

Even the bear's patchwork was special. Staid and loyal, the teddy bear was made from the thin doeskin of Molly's own wedding skirt. The golden brown sueded material felt silky soft to the touch. Worn and well-loved, Molly made sure it was durable enough to last long beyond the girl's all too brief childhood.

The unnamed teddy remembered the day Molly breathed life into his ear. Old Quil whispered secrets in the other, things the teddy would need to know to protect his young charge. The first of them, the secret of the pack mind. Old Quil explained as best he could, but the teddy had no pack. Turning his attention to Molly, teddy wondered what this was-_"pack mind"_, _"pack"_.

Molly explained, "Well, of course you wouldn't know! You're a teddy bear, not a wolf!" She elbowed Old Quil. "Pack mind," she scoffed.

Hunkering down in front of the teddy, she pointed to the others waiting their turn on the shelf-a big, colorful octopus for the future alpha; a long-eared bunny in vibrant aqua blue for his beta; a sturdy, yellow ducky in water-resistant oilcloth for her grandson. "You're a cuddle of stuffies, not a pack of wolves!"

_A cuddle?_ The teddy regarded Molly. _Cuddle mind?_

"Yes." She smiled, relieved the teddy understood.

The teddy understood many things. As Molly breathed life into each tiny, childhood guardian, Old Quil always added a bit of his own magic-the magic of The Great Protectors. The children were special. Each child had magic, too, and sometimes, Molly explained, magic attracts the wrong kind of attention. The stuffies-centurions, Old Quil called them-would watch over the children and report back to the nearest stuffy-most likely young Quil's ducky. The teddy understood this. The purpose of the cuddle mind was to keep them connected so Molly and Old Quil would know when they were needed.

The teddy also understood his very special job. As Molly finished his stitches and tucked essential herbs and powdered amber into his squishy middle, she sang an ancient song, imbuing the teddy with extensive knowledge, including an in-depth primer on dealing with dreams both good and bad, more bravery than most, and even greater daring-do.

He would need it all.

Bella Swan's magic glowed like a beacon, even in the womb. In the cradle, she kicked and cooed softly, her soulful brown eyes watching everyone and everything with quiet interest, particularly Sarah Black and Tiffany Call.

From birth, the infant Bella Swan knew things.

_Magic things._

From the moment Molly set him in the cradle within his darling Bella's clumsy grasp, the centurion teddy stood watch over the most powerful witch the Swan family had ever borne.

Being a centurion, he had some magic of his own. Speed, for starters. As a childhood guardian, teddy and the others could move faster than even a supernatural eye could see. Which is why they never appeared to move. Too fast to track. A handy skill, that, especially in the brief moments they were separated before bed during the dreaded _bath_ when the teddy had just enough time to spray the pillows, doors, windows, and that awful, dark space under the bed with Molly's home-brewed Monster Spray.

Renee thought it was just a pretty spray bottle, filled with sparkly water and provided by Charlie's Aunt Molly to give Bella a feeling of independence and control over the little things that frighten children in the night. The scent of chamomile and lavender helped Bella settle down, so Renee sprayed a little every night on Bella's pajamas and pillow just for good measure, then tapped the dream catcher mobile overhead for sweet, monster-free dreams, too.

Little did Renee know the monsters were the least of _her_ worries…

* * *

><p><em>EN: How adorable is the centurion teddy?! Who wants to read more?_


	46. Sleepless Walking, BellaPaulEmbryJacob

Fandom: **TwiW**

Pairing: **Bella/Paul, Embry, Jacob**

Genre: **angst, suspense, grief**

Rating: **M**, for one little language blip—**mentions of character death**

Word Count: **500**

Prompt: **"Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost**

**A/N:** I've had this one particular picture for probably close to a year now and I knew it was this pairing and this scenario (empty spaces/dysfunctional grief), but I didn't realize I was waiting for this week's prompt poem to spark whatever was needed to get it out on paper. You can check out the original picture that prompted this flash on my Twitter/ChrissiHR. Generally speaking, angst and feels are not my forte, so thanks for putting up with my experiments while I play with old, unfinished ideas. ;)

* * *

><p><span><strong>Sleepless Walking<strong>

* * *

><p>She can't sleep. It's not that she doesn't try, but it's not the same alone. It's not the same in the cold bed with the wrong scenery. It's not the same without his long, warm length pressed against her back, his breath curling over that tender spot at the back of her neck where he kissed her for every reason and no reason at all.<p>

So she walks, the stiff webbing of nylon clutched in her cold hand as Misty trots by her side.

Jacob's gift—Misty—the fluffy golden lab meant to keep her company, meant to give her a reason to get out of bed each morning.

A reason to live, when all she wants to do is follow _him_.

Jacob knows this. The others, too. She can't see him, but she knows one of them is always out there, watching her, making sure this walk is just a walk and ends at her house as it should.

But the woods are lovely; the dark invites her in. She longs to leave the path and disappear into the fog, enveloped, lost to the lovely darkness of his beloved woods.

To go where he went and remain. More than anything, that spot calls to her. To wander off the path and find that spot. To lay there, where he lain and be as close to his warmth as she will ever be again.

Not today. She looks over her shoulder as golden eyes return her gaze.

Not today, but soon.

* * *

><p>He doesn't sleep. Knowing she's out there before dawn, sleep eludes him again. Her silent contemplation unnerves. The wistful way she stares into the woods; it terrifies him.<p>

Bone deep terror.

Because one day he won't be there and that'll be the day she gives in and follows the emptiness, trying to fill it with that patch of fucking dirt.

_He's_ not even _there_!

He wishes they'd never talked her into leaving the house, but it hurt to see her wandering the rooms aimlessly and staring at the empty bed.

All the empty places.

Empty spaces she couldn't place herself in anymore because she didn't fit in them, not without Paul. The empty spaces haunted her; the spaces kept her from sleeping in their bed.

She never slept in it again.

Embry didn't know if the others knew, but he noticed the bed remained unmade, the covers thrown back.

Untouched.

Unbearable.

Every glance into that room riddled with pain.

But worse, so much worse than simple grief. Like her body and mind forgot how to feel and muscle memory alone wrenched her attention back to the same point again and again to look with unseeing eyes on a spot she had no place in.

Because it was _theirs_ and there was no "theirs" anymore.

Just "hers".

She'd rather lay on the cold dirt and torn moss where _he_ breathed his last than in the warm bed that still smelled of his scent.

Dark and deep and silent, the woods are _theirs_.

* * *

><p><strong>EN:** _Sad? I can never tell if it's as sad as I think when I write these angsty/griefy bits. _


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